The Disney Hunger Games
by Claricello
Summary: Follow the path of twelve of everyone's favorite Disney princesses in their fight to the death in the ultimate Hunger Games Quarter Quell. Rated T for language and violence. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is our first time writing fanfiction. We're still in school, so we'd really appreciate it if you could comment what you think of this story. We have about 14 chapters written so far; it's just that we have a little - okay probably a lot - of editing to do.**

 **Warning: Bad Disney puns below...**

* * *

"Welcome, tributes, to the 100th annual Hunger Games!"

Pocahontas fidgeted nervously as she waited to be released from her starting plate. There was a countdown of ten seconds; ten seconds until the Hunger Games began, the cruel and unjust form of entertainment that the people in the Capitol so desperately desired; ten seconds until the beginning of a living nightmare that would ultimately end in her death.

Pocahontas was not stupid. If anyone had thought that this year's Games would be less competitive than the ones in the past—with half the number of tributes and all of them being female— they would be proven wrong the second the fight started. She'd seen some of the other tributes. One had magical ice powers, which was a huge, unfair advantage— one blast to the heart and Pocahontas would be dead. Another had the ability to heal, which Pocahontas thought was even more unfair— how was anyone supposed defeat someone who was practically invincible? And Pocahontas definitely remembered the confident girl with the mass of curly red hair who spoke rashly and didn't give a damn about what others thought of her. She grimaced as she remembered staring with wide eyes as the girl shot ten straight bull's eyes in a row in the training room, and how there was an unspoken agreement in the room that this girl was a force to be reckoned with. She was definitely the most intimidating tribute.

 _But_ , Pocahontas thought as she steeled herself for the inevitable, _that girl might not be able to get her hands on the bow and arrows_. Her mind raced and a lightbulb went off in her brain. That girl may be lethal with a bow and arrows, but Pocahontas was the fastest runner in her village for a reason.

And she wasn't going down without a fight.

* * *

Mulan shuddered as she stood on her starting plate. When she'd heard that this year's Quarter Quell twist would be that the tributes were all Disney females, she had been slightly relieved. At least, if she got reaped, then she, as the only military trained Disney female, would have a good chance of making it out alive.

She had been so wrong.

Mulan preferred not to remind herself of their terrifying capabilities, but every time she shoved the thought to the back of her cluttered mind, images of the unexpected factor of magic in these Games would come reeling back with the slightest bit of prompting, whether it be drinking iced water, or eating salmon at the tribute's banquet.

Mulan sighed as she remembered how she had first gotten a glimpse of their magical abilities. One girl with long, golden hair had gotten herself a paper cut, and, after crying out in pain and sucking on her thumb, she had wrapped her hair around the "injured" finger and started singing. Everyone had stopped what they had originally been doing — Mulan herself had put down the knife she was learning to throw, in the case that she didn't obtain a sword — and trained their eyes on the bizarre scene in front of them. But stunningly, at the end of her song, her finger was as good as new.

Mulan tried not to overthink, but it was easier said than done. It didn't matter how skilled or tough she was; how could she beat people who could heal any damage she did to them, create glaciers out of midair, or switch back and forth between human and fish form?

She told herself repeatedly that it didn't matter; her goal was already accomplished — she'd kept her mother safe.

 _"And our tribute from District 2 is... Fa Li!" the woman whom the whole district referred to as the 'matchmaker' announced with a smile._

 _Mulan's heart stopped. No. This couldn't be happening. Mulan glanced up at her father, who had gone sickly pale. They locked eyes and the look on his face told Mulan what she needed to do._

 _"I... I volunteer as tribute!" she blurted out, running towards the stage as her father's eyes widened. Both her parents had looks of horror on their faces, but Mulan had made up her mind._

 _"I volunteer as tribute," she said again, this time with more confidence._

 _"All right then," the Matchmaker declared. "Our tribute from District 2 is Fa Mulan!"_

Mulan snapped back to reality as the countdown got to the lower numbers.

3...2...1

Before Mulan could fully comprehend what was going on, she saw the other tributes running off their platforms. She jumped and started sprinting towards the center, mentally berating herself for her lapse in awareness.

* * *

As the timer finally counted down to one after an achingly long ten seconds, Pocahontas immediately leapt off her her plate and began sprinting toward the Cornucopia. Pocahontas had always been a fast sprinter, and it was finally coming in handy. She even had the spare time to pick up a small satchel and a knife on her way.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted a ball of ice coming at her head and was forced to swerve to the right to avoid it. Cursing, Pocahontas flung the knife she had picked up in the direction the ice had come from. She watched in astonishment as the knife made its mark, burrowing deep into Elsa's upper forearm.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in victory. Pocahontas had never been good at aiming, even when she _wasn't_ running at the same time, so she hadn't _actually_ expected the knife to find its target.

Screaming in pain, Elsa turned around and headed into the woods. _Good,_ Pocahontas thought. _Now she can't freeze us all to the Cornucopia._

Returning her attention to the bow and arrows, Pocahontas realized that the redhead, Merida, was running straight towards them, too. Sucking in a sharp breath, she willed herself to go faster, eyes trained on the spot she and Merida would meet.

 _This was going to get messy._

* * *

Mulan glanced around at her fellow tributes as she began sprinting towards the Cornucopia. Most, like Belle, Aurora, and Snow White, were making their way into the woods east of the Cornucopia. Tiana, closely following Ariel, was heading towards a lake to the south. _Probably to go find some frog to kiss_ , Mulan thought sarcastically. She slowed down to pick up a small backpack on the way, then urged herself to go faster to make up for the lost time.

Mulan watched in awe as one of the girls, Pocahontas, hurled a knife at Elsa, the tribute with ice powers. _Better watch out for those two,_ she thought as the knife made it's mark.

Returning her attention to the Cornucopia, Mulan arrived only shortly after Pocahontas and the redhead, Merida. Spying a sword, Mulan grabbed it quickly, skidded around an intense fight between a Middle-Eastern princess and a blondie, Cinderella, and stopped, contemplating whether she should help Pocahontas in her fight against Merida. Pocahontas didn't have powers, but she was quick on her feet and had managed to somehow throw a knife at someone while running, so she was dangerous, but she would also make a good ally.

 _Boom!_ The sound of the first cannon of the Games surprised Mulan. She spun around, only to find herself facing the Middle-Eastern girl who had defeated Cinderella. The girl stood over the bloody body of her victim, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Mulan recoiled slightly when she spotted the many stab marks that covered Cinderella's face, distorting her once picturesque features. Nevertheless, she raised her sword and put on the fiercest expression she could.

 _I can do this,_ she reminded herself.

 _I can do this._

* * *

Pocahontas almost jumped a foot into the air when she heard the cannon— the first one of the Games. She and Merida had engaged in a cross between a fist fight— since Pocahontas had used her knife on Elsa— and a game of tug-of-war. Merida was stronger than she was; Pocahontas mentally cursed herself for stopping to get the other supplies. Her priority should have been go straight for the bow and arrows.

She felt a stab of pain as Merida's fist collided with her face. Spots clouded her vision and as she struggled to regain her eyesight, Pocahontas felt the bow and arrows being pulled out of her hands. She grabbed on, desperately trying to pull them back, but Merida slammed her to the ground.

Pain shot down her back. Pocahontas struggled to ignore it as she felt the weapons slipping through her fingers.

 _Please let an angel come,_ Pocahontas prayed sarcastically, as, in a desperate attempt to doom Merida, she tried to snap the bowstring. No luck. Before Pocahontas could even get close, she was hit in the stomach and fell to the ground with a groan.

* * *

Mulan cringed at the sound of the cannon signaling her first kill. She had done it numerous times before; war had prepared her for this. But even when killing the Huns, irreversible guilt had cracked open in her chest every time one of them fell at her hand. Killing innocents was even worse.

Mulan summoned her mental strength and forced her eyes away from her victim's dead body. Conflicted, her eyes flitted between the relative safety of the woods and the ongoing... interesting fight between Merida and Pocahontas. As she saw Pocahontas being slammed to the ground, Mulan made up her mind.

No, this was not a humanitarian act of kindness to Pocahontas, but the logical solution. If Merida got her hands on that weapon... Mulan had seen what her abilities were.

"Stop!" Mulan yelled, pointing her sword at Merida, who, obviously, was the bigger threat to her safety at the moment. As Merida turned around, Pocahontas sprang up and snatched the bow and arrows out of her hands. Mulan relaxed as soon as she saw that Merida had lost possession of it. She hadn't seen Pocahontas use the weapon in the training center before, so she wasn't as worried about her.

But Mulan saw Merida try to grab them back, and that's when she started sprinting towards them. Please hold on, Pocahontas, she prayed as she ran at top speed to the two of them.

Merida and Pocahontas were both holding on with all their might, but Mulan could see Merida winning. She ran faster, sword at the ready.

* * *

Pocahontas clung onto the bow and arrows so hard that her knuckles turned white — hard to do when you had copper-colored skin. As she was losing her grip, a sense of hopelessness filled her, with images of her inevitable death flashing in her head... but then she saw the Chinese girl, Mulan, running towards them, weapon held out intimidatingly.

Jumping up to escape, Merida let go of the weapons, the sudden release causing Pocahontas to fall backwards. She panicked when she saw Mulan pointing the sword at straight at her. Pocahontas quickly held up her bow and nocked an arrow threateningly.

"Go or you die," she spat, trying to hide the fact that she had no idea how to use the bow and was absolutely terrified. She was 99.9% sure that Mulan was convinced by her act.

* * *

 _Does she really think I'm going to buy that?_ Mulan thought, thoroughly disgusted. The girl was holding the entire bow backwards, had a huge tremble in her voice, and had the arrow aimed more at the clouds in the sky than at Mulan. In fact, Pocahontas was more likely to shoot herself in the heart than at her somewhat amused target.

Suddenly, a movement caught Mulan's attention. It was Elsa, coming back for revenge, her arm as good as new. Mulan caught Pocahontas's eye, and suddenly there was an unspoken agreement between the two. They backed up against the Cornucopia — Pocahontas fake aiming the bow and arrows at Elsa, and Mulan pointing her sword with the packs slung over her shoulder. Mulan suddenly felt the bow and arrows being shoved into her hands. She glanced over to her right in alarm; this meant Pocahontas was unarmed. Without thinking, she quickly forced her own sword into Pocahontas's hands, reciprocating the action. Then they both aimed their weapons — for real this time — at Elsa.

Even so, Mulan did not like their odds of prevailing.

"Hey Elsa!" a voice called. "Need help?" All three girls turned to see Tiana, Ariel, and Rapunzel standing casually in the clearing, as if everything was was completely normal.

"You?" Elsa spat out at Tiana while keeping her eye on Mulan and Pocahontas. "It's your fault that I got hurt-"

"But you're healed-"

"That was Rapunzel; you were the one who distracted me-"

"Please just let it go, woman!"

"Let it go?!" Elsa screamed. "You want me to let it go?!"

"Uh, yes-"

"The snow glows white on the mountain tonight-"

"Um, the mountain's over there... we're on flat land-" Tiana tried to correct.

"Not a footprint to be seen…"

"Well, I mean, what do you expect, we're stepping on grass, not snow, 'cause like I said, the mountain's over there-"

"A kingdom of isolation-"

"Elsa, don't tell them your plan!"

"WELL NOW THEY KNOW!" Elsa wailed, breaking out into full song. "Let it go! Let it go!" she sang — more accurately, wailed — while creating a gigantic ice castle around her.

Tiana, Ariel, Rapunzel, Pocahontas, and Mulan all took this awkward but enticing opportunity to run away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! How are you? We're good. Thanks for asking (sigh... my attempts at humor :P) We've been pretty busy the past few weeks, hence the delay in updating the story. Thanks for sticking with us.**

 **We apologize sincerely for the dip in quality (thought it isn't really a dip if it wasn't good in the first place), but we promise this gets better as it goes along.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Tiana, Ariel, and Rapunzel ran for the woods while Mulan and Pocahontas took off in the other direction, towards the mountains. Mulan, because she had learned from her experience in the Tung Shao Pass that it was a great advantage to be on higher than your enemies, and Pocahontas, because she desperately wanted to trust Mulan and had the slightest bit of hope that she could make peace with her and become allies. Also, there was a visible stream there, which Pocahontas could use to search for edible aquatic plants, and which Mulan could use to catch fish with her bare hands, like she had learned in the army. They ran on silently together, not because they couldn't communicate (the Capitol had made them take language pills before entering the arena), but because there was no need to. There was already a mutual trust forming between them.

* * *

This year's Hunger Games had changed a lot. For one, there were only twelve tributes. Jasmine, from District 1, was, or had been, the favorite to win in the Capitol, as they made luxury items. From District 2, masonry, was Mulan, from the technology district, District 3, was Rapunzel, and from District 4's fishing industry came Ariel. Elsa was from District 5, the power and electricity district, and Tiana, from 6, worked in transportation. Merida came from 7, lumber. 8, textiles, had given up Cinderella, and 9, grain, had separated Beauty from her Beast. The livestock district had reaped Aurora, and Pocahontas had been chosen from District 11, agriculture. And lastly, Snow White had been chosen from District 12.

Pocahontas had always thought living in District 11 was hard, even as the Chief's daughter. She had to work in the fields along with everyone else, despite being considered royalty, do to the sheer number of residents in Panem. Doing backbreaking work as the sun beat down on her, creating scorching temperatures, wasn't exactly work suitable for a princess, but Pocahontas didn't have a choice. _Although_ , she thought, _I guess my familiarity with exertion will help me in the Games. I'm at least stronger than Aurora and Snow White._

* * *

Mulan glanced over at Pocahontas, who wore a tight-lipped expression, as if she were keeping depressing words from escaping. _Probably thinking of home,_ she thought. Mulan racked her brain, trying to remember all she could about her new-found ally. Sun-tanned skin and muscles were easily detectable whenever someone looked at her. _She must be from District 11,_ Mulan concluded. Mulan had always thought it unfair that only District 11 took on the role of farming. They had to supply crops for everyone throughout the country, and yet they got the least thanks.

But life, as she had learned, was, and always would be, unfair.

It wasn't the PTSD from the war, the ugly scar that brought back unwanted memories and pain, or how it prevented her from fitting in with other teenage girls and be looked at normally that bothered Mulan, just the fact that her father had been drafted in the first place.

Mulan shook the thoughts out of her head. Instead, she shifted her attention to her new ally.

Mulan herself was still confused as to why she trusted Pocahontas so quickly, and why she had let them become allies. After all, alliances only complicated things and created unnecessary brain games, which Mulan had never been fond of. Before the Games, Mulan had scoffed at the suggestion of making an alliance, becausesince what was the point of pretending to trust someone for a couple days, being on watch all the while, and ultimately killing her when the numbers were dwindling? In theory, it sounded ridiculous. But in practice, it was much more than that. After Mulan had faced the fear of almost dying at Elsa's hand, she had realized how much better she felt with someone to watch her back. Of course, they would eventually have to split up, but Mulan believed that Pocahontas was a creditable person who seemed like she could be trusted, at least for a while.

Mulan listened to her and Pocahontas's breathing. Mulan could tell that Pocahontas was naturally athletic. Mulan rarely ever saw any girl who could keep up with her for this long, and yet Pocahontas was still running at the same pace as when she began running with Mulan fifteen minutes ago. For someone who had never undergone military training, Mulan had to admit that it was impressive.

When the two of them started up the mountain, Pocahontas's speed decreased slightly. At first, Mulan thought it was exertion, but then she realized that Pocahontas was shifting the bags on her shoulder and alternating which shoulder carried it. Mulan wordlessly took them from her.

"It's fine—" Pocahontas tried to protest.

"I once climbed up a thirty-foot tall pole with two fifty pound weights," Mulan cut her off. "This is nothing." She knew that Pocahontas had to be strong to be working in the fields every day, but it wasn't like corn weighed, especially ever since all the corn in Panem had been genetically modified to be sweeter, juicier, and lighter in weight fifty years ago.

As the two got higher, the temperature dropped noticeably. Mulan was wearing the same dress that she had saved China in, which was surprisingly warm and similar to the material of the outfit she had worn when training in the army. Pocahontas, on the other hand, was wearing her usual animal skin outfit that did not do a good job of keeping her warm, which honestly was hard to do when leaving all of her arms and legs exposed. As they neared the top, their breath became visible, and Pocahontas could not help but wish that she had worn something different.

* * *

Pocahontas tried not to shiver, but it was impossible. They had reached a small clearing surrounded by an abundance of trees and a stream running through it, and they had decided to stop there for the night. The only problem with stopping was that without the constant movement, Pocahontas was beginning to grow colder and colder by the second. Plus, being in the mountains in higher altitudes wasn't exactly helpful either. Pocahontas wasn't an idiot; she knew that starting a fire would practically tell everyone ' _here we are!'_ , but then again, dying of hypothermia seemed pretty stupid, too.

"M-maybe we sh-should st-start a f-fire." Pocahontas suggested weakly, trying, but failing, to keep her teeth from chattering. "I kn-know it might attract p-people," she added hurriedly, "but..."

Mulan studied Pocahontas. Then, she said, "I'm not sure that's the best idea."

Reaching into one of the packs they'd salvaged from the Cornucopia, she pulled out a thick blanket and handed it to Pocahontas.

"Th-thanks." she said.

* * *

Mulan was starting to have doubts about her ally. _Maybe I made a mistake in choosing her,_ she thought. _I mean, seriously? A fire would alert everyone in a five mile radius to exactly where we are, not to mention scare away any game, too!_ Mulan pushed all thoughts of Pocahontas out of her head as she prepared to go to bed. _Maybe the cold is getting to her head,_ she thought hopefully. _Otherwise, with logic like that, she's as good as dead._

Mulan had a hard time falling asleep that night. She had selflessly let Pocahontas keep the warmer, thicker blanket, and had therefore been left with the thin, ragged blanket that was almost no help against the cold. Because of this, she couldn't fall asleep, but it wasn't like she would have been able to anyway. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the face of Jasmine flash across her eyelids. Jasmine had been from District 1; Mulan had figured that out earlier that evening when the anthem had played and they showed the faces of the deceased tributes.

Mulan knew what it felt like to lose someone; although it had never happened to her, personally, she had felt a similar feeling when she had first found out that her father had been drafted to the army. At any rate, Mulan could still sympathize, and she knew that Jasmine's family would mourn her death for a long time. They would eventually move on, but they would never really forget her, and Mulan felt empty knowing that she was the cause of this. She had killed soldiers before—thousands of them—but that was different. Jasmine, for the most part, had been innocent. It wasn't her choice to join to be reaped.

 _But it's part of the Games,_ Mulan reminded herself in a feeble attempt to reassure herself.

It didn't help.

* * *

In an attempt to prove that she wasn't as weak as she had seemed the night before, Pocahontas offered to collect edible plants in the woods the next morning.

"Good idea." said Mulan.

Satisfied, Pocahontas got to her feet, grabbed the sword and headed off into the woods. Her feet made little sound as she moved, a skill she'd obtained after years of growing crops. Grabbing handfuls of clovers as she made her way further into the woods, her eyes finally landed on a chicory bush. Jackpot! she thought excitedly. Rushing forward, she was about to grab some of the flowers, when...

Mulan let an arrow fly, catching a rabbit on the neck. _This will go well with whatever Pocahontas brings_ , she thought. _And speaking of Pocahontas..._

Rushing back to camp, Mulan grabbed the only item she had found in the satchel—a watch—and looked at it's face, which read 9:48.

 _9:48! Pocahontas had been gone for over an hour! Was she dead? No she couldn't be. The cannon hadn't gone off. So did she abandon me? No, probably not, she didn't seem like the type of person who'd do that._ Mulan's brain raced in a jumble of thoughts as she tried to figure out what she should do. Should she even try to find her? A dead Pocahontas meant would mean avoiding a messy predicament later, in which only only one of them would come out alive. There could only be one winner after all. But on the other hand... Pushing down all thoughts of abandoning Pocahontas, Mulan finally decided to walk in a circle around their camp, slowly spiraling outward.

Grabbing the bow and arrows, she set out.

* * *

Dropping her watch, Pocahontas sprang back in fear, only to find a rabbit nibbling at a low hanging chicory flower. Chuckling a little, she bent down to grab the watch, which read 9:52.

Pocahontas gasped as she realized that she'd been gone for and hour. Quickly uprooting the plant, Pocahontas hurried back in the direction of camp.

* * *

Mulan's stomach was growling. She reached for the dead rabbit, which was now tucked into her satchel. _No!_ she reprimanded herself. _Save it to eat with Pocahontas._

Eyes still roaming for her lost ally, Mulan finally came across an apple tree. Lighting up visibly, she hurried over to inspect the tree. It looked fine enough.

Mulan had just reached out for an apple when someone cried, "No!"

* * *

"No!" Pocahontas cried. Flinging herself in between Mulan and the tree, she tried not to think about how much pain this one particular type of tree had caused her and the rest of District 11.

"What?" Mulan asked, stepping away from tree hastily. Pocahontas saw the confusion written all over Mulan's face.

"You can't eat this," she explained in a rush. "It's a poisonous apple tree devised the Capitol!" There was no doubt in Pocahontas' mind that this was true; she could see it in the deep green-blue leaves and glossy, red, almost too perfect apples.

Alarm appeared on Mulan's face. "Wha—? Why—? How—? " she stuttered in confusion. "Explain." she finally said.

Pocahontas nodded and relayed the story to Mulan.

"There was this boy named Milap," she began, "which means 'he who does not flee'. He was very loyal, and the most overly modest person you would ever meet." A small smile appeared on her face as she recounted all the happy memories she and others had shared with him. "Everyone loved being around him. Milap was just one of those people that you can't help but like. He made all our lives in District 11 a little, well, brighter. Life on a farm is hard, but it's fulfilling, and we were all happy.

"Then one day, the white _idiots_ from the Capitol came. They took over the farms, taunting us and making fun of our 'old' way of life. The Native American way of life is very peaceful." Pocahontas quickly added. She was very passionate about two things — preserving nature and teaching people about Native Americans. There was nothing (except possibly the deforestation in the Amazon rain forest) that annoyed her more than when people wrote Native Americans off as 'not with the times' and 'stuck in the past'. And you did _not_ want to call her and her family 'Indians'. The last (and only) person to do that had ended up… well, let's just say you don't want to go down that road.

"They forced us to grow food for them, and they succeeded in doing so because they had guns. We didn't. So we started giving them a portion of our produce, but naturally, we also secretly began to formulate plans to rebel. A lot of people decided it wasn't worth fighting and fled the village, but Milap, along with a couple dozen other families, decided to stay. He sought revenge, and every night he'd steal supplies from the guards for the young children still in the village, who had grown sick in the terrible conditions.

"One day he was caught in the act of stealing, although he didn't know it. One of the guards had secretly spotted him, but, instead of shooting him like they normally did when someone was caught breaking the rules, the guard decided to report him to the Capitol instead. The Capitol decided to use Milap's punishment as an opportunity to test out one of their new inventions. They had recently invented this genetically modified apple tree that produced apples filled with poison. It was created with the sole purpose of tricking rebels into eating them, and the Capitol decided to test the apples's proficiency with Milap. The guard slipped one of the poisonous apples into one of Milap's crates, which eventually made it's way to the Capitol. Some important government official ate it, and he died, and Milap was blamed.

"They executed him by forcing him to eat one of the apples in front of everyone remaining in the village. Of course, we all knew that Milap didn't have the supplies to create the apple, and eventually, we learned that it was the guard who'd caused the whole thing. We were angry, obviously, but then, they started mass producing the poisonous apple trees, just to make fun of us, and it made Milap's death even worse. So, when you almost ate one, I..." Pocahontas trailed off, glancing at Mulan's face. It displayed so much sorrow there that Pocahontas almost did a double take. Her first impression of Mulan had been that she was a stone-faced, detached warrior devoid of emotion, but maybe she had been too quick to judge her.

"I'm sorry." Mulan said. She couldn't think of anything better to say. "And there's no mistaking that..."

"No, these are definitely poisonous." Pocahontas answered. "See the glossy, blue-green leaves? And the skins; they're too shiny."

Mulan nodded and then just stood there, not exactly sure what else to say. She had never been the best at consoling people. She had never understood why people would say things like, 'you shared so many good memories' and 'just remember all the good times' to those who had lost a loved one. Were those words supposed to somehow make death seem like a good thing, like it was something to be celebrated? Mulan had personally never liked it when people said these things, so she settled on saying, "I'm sorry," for a second time.

A long moment passed between the two of them.

After a while, Pocahontas said quietly, "Thank you."

* * *

Meanwhile, in her hideout in an underwater sea cave, Ariel couldn't help but feel the hunger as it settled in. Although she was hiding out in the river filled with an abundance of fish, she couldn't bring herself to kill any of them. They were like her next-door neighbors, but with fins and gills instead of arms and legs, living in coral instead of houses, and not on land, but under the sea...

She let her eyes follow a school of tuna as they swam temptingly in front of her. She would have to eat _something_ eventually, and food seemed a lot easier to obtain in water than on land, where there was a pool of angry tributes ready to kill her the second she showed her face.

Just as Ariel was debating between cannibalism and starvation, she felt something in the water change. The water had always been cold, but she could swear that it was turning colder. Puzzled, she swam in a circle, searching for anything that could have caused the change in temperature. The water became even more chilly, to the point where Ariel would have called it freezing.

Then it hit her. Her eyes widened.

 _Shit._

Ariel turned her head upwards in a panic, fear gripping her inside and out. She saw the water around her slowly begin to freeze.

Oh god, how could she have forgotten?

As she slowly became enclosed and trapped in the block of ice that the river had become, Ariel tried to scream, but only tiny bubbles of air came out. She gasped for air, but the ice began closing in on her gills, and within seconds she could not move or breathe. Ariel's head lolled back as she resigned herself to a fate of suffocation.

* * *

An awkward silence settled between Mulan and Pocahontas, with Pocahontas trying to force her emotions down, and Mulan struggling to come up with something intelligent to say.

"I, um... I'm really sorry," she settled for, glancing up uncomfortably. She made the signal to start walking back, and she turned around to avoid Pocahontas' gaze. She could hear her near silent footsteps following her.

Mulan reached the top first, so she decided to catch some fish while waiting. She reached into the stream, only to pull her fingers out with a yelp. The water was freezing cold, and the quick-flowing current stung.

A little slower this time, Mulan steeled herself and reached in. She felt a fish sliding past her hand and made a quick grab the way Shang had taught her.

All of a sudden, Mulan felt ice closing in on her hand. _What the—_

"Oh my god!" she heard Pocahontas gasp.

With a quick jerk, Mulan pulled her hand out of the now frozen stream, letting go of the fish. She fell backwards with an unladylike groan, muttering a few unladylike words while she was at it.

Then the cannon sounded.

"Wait, Mulan-" Mulan turned around and she saw Pocahontas relax.

"Oh god, I thought that was you, that cannon, like maybe, I thought... I don't know, the Gamemakers made a trap or something, like electrocuted you through the water because of what I just told the whole country of Panem about the Capitol, or poisoned it with something that killed on contact, or- or maybe even, I don't know, injected tracker jacker venom into it-" she paused for a breath, actually seeming flushed, which Mulan suspected rarely happened.

Mulan thought about smiling or reassuring her, but she was too busy staring at frozen steam to care. Her eyes then turned to her hand, and her eyes widened.

That was when Mulan unfortunately felt the searing hot pain as it finally kicked in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. We'll try to update faster from now on.**

* * *

"Ow..." Mulan mumbled with tears streaming down her face. She looked down pitifully. Her hand was bleeding, the skin was peeling off, and her were fingers blue. Mulan wasn't one usually sensitive to pain, but there was something in that ice-Mulan didn't know what-that completely immobilized her right hand from the pain and made it throb so hard that her fingers shook uncontrollably.

Ashamed for crying over such a small "injury", Mulan hastily turned away and tried to stop the tears. She didn't understand. The stab from the war had punctured a major artery, caused excessive bleeding, and ultimately lead to her fainting, and yet she hadn't shed a tear.

 _At least it was my non-dominant hand,_ Mulan thought, trying to think of something positive. The Chinese usually tried to "correct" left handedness, since the world was designed for right-handed people, but she had been unable to, either spilling, breaking, or dropping basically anything she tried to hold and move with precision in her right hand. Her inability and dishonor, ironically, had been a blessing to her today. Mulan shuddered just thinking about how much worse it would be if her dominant hand had been injured instead.

As Mulan made an effort to wipe her eyes with a non-injured hand, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay," Pocahontas assured, her voice back to it's normal calm. "You can cry in front of me."

* * *

Pocahontas knew that she, at 18, was two years older than Mulan, and it showed when she was able to comfort her-at least to some degree-compared to Mulan's feeble attempts earlier.

She did the first thing that came to mind, which was to hug Mulan, which Mulan did not resist as she caved in and let the tears run down her face. She started crying the type of cry where she really didn't know what she was feeling, just that things were tough and that she couldn't stop.

By this point Mulan didn't even bother acting strong anymore as everything she had been holding back came spilling out: her parents, Shang, haunting memories of the war, the Games...

Mulan didn't care anymore that she was sobbing like a five year old on national television, that she was probably letting her family down, or that she had embarrassed herself in front of Pocahontas.

She cried.

* * *

Pocahontas practically carried Mulan into a cave at the top of the mountain. If there was one thing Pocahontas knew, it was that Mulan had been through a lot. Even if she hadn't done her extensive research on each of the tributes, common knowledge would have still permitted her to know about the girl who had saved District 2 from the rule of a ruthless, tyrannical, and straight-out insane Mongol by dressing up as a man to fight in the war in place of her aging father.

It was strange how protective of Mulan Pocahontas felt, despite only meeting her three days earlier. If they had been living a normal life, Pocahontas felt like Mulan would be the type of friend that she would treat like a younger sister. She would let her sleep on her lap, comfort her when she cried, pull pranks together, and protect her when she needed to be. Of course, by that Pocahontas did not mean physically, because Mulan was more than capable in that regard, but rather emotionally or verbally, such as in the case that someone trash talked her.

Pocahontas asked herself why she had secretly been wanting Mulan as an ally all along. She, like everyone else, had known three things about her: 1, she was military trained; 2, she was Chinese; and 3, she fought with honor.

In other words, she was useful, smart, and loyal all at the same time.

Pocahontas knew that when Mulan fought with honor, it didn't mean that she would give her opponent an equal weapon, shake hands, and bow, but in the sense that, for example, if she made an ally, she would not betray them. Which was extremely helpful in her situation, now that she had managed to gain Mulan's trust.

"Need help?" Mulan interrupted her thoughts, gesturing to Pocahontas, who was arranging snow in front of the opening of the cave so that they would be hidden from view.

"But your hand—"

"I'm left handed." Seeming to have snapped out of her brief moment of weakness, Mulan shuffled over to pack more snow in front of the opening, leaving a small space unblocked so that they would have a flow of oxygen. Pocahontas was rather hungry, but she could tell that Mulan wasn't in the mood for eating anymore. She decided resolutely that acting considerate to her ally was more important than satisfying her hunger.

When they finished blocking the opening, Pocahontas suggested pointedly, "Let's just go to sleep early today. It's nine." She watched in quiet satisfaction as Mulan nodded and opened their bags for the blankets. They soon realized that there were two: the snug, warm one that Pocahontas had used earlier, and the flimsy, thin one that Mulan had taken up.

"I'll use that one," they said in unison, both pointing to the latter and obviously less desirable one. Pocahontas sighed, trying to think of a compromise.

"We can use it in shifts, maybe?" she suggested, but Mulan shook her head.

"I have an idea. It's a trick I learned in the army," she explained excitedly. "Okay, lie closer." They shifted until they were side by side.

"Now just put both blankets on top of both of us. Basically we share our body heat and both have two layers on top of us instead of one."

As Mulan finished speaking, the anthem started to play. The two of them watched solemnly as pictures of Ariel, Cinderella, and Jasmine flashed into the sky. Pocahontas gave each of them a small prayer in her head. They were innocent, and as far as she knew, none of them had done anything to deserve to die. By the time the lyrics finished playing, Pocahontas had finished her paying her silent respects, and Mulan was out cold.

Pocahontas's thoughts wandered aimlessly until they settled on the tributes' deaths. She knew how Cinderella and Jasmine had died, having witnessed their deaths in person, but she hadn't been there to see Ariel's. She let herself ponder what had happened. _Ariel... would go immediately into the water... and all the rivers and streams were connected..._

 _Oh,_ Pocahontas thought in realization. So that was why the stream had suddenly frozen into ice. Elsa must have suffocated Ariel, and unknowingly also hurt Mulan. Her lips tugged into a frown as it registered with her that Elsa had not only had lethal ice powers, but a working brain capable of thinking intelligently. Now, only Elsa had a water source; she could melt the snow she created...

Melt the snow! Rushing outside, Pocahontas quickly took in her surroundings. Just below the foot of the mountain was a lush green forest, covering the entire landscape. In the distance, Pocahontas could just make out the shimmering turrets of Elsa's ice castle, not far from the sleek black metal slabs that made up the Cornucopia. As far as she was aware, the mountain was the only place, besides Elsa's castle, where one could get snow…

Which meant that they were going to get some company.

* * *

"Mulan!"

Mulan awoke to an arm shaking her awake. Her hand still throbbed painfully from the night before, but now, instead of a sharp pain, it had weakened to a dull ache. Opening her eyes almost immediately, despite having just woken up, Mulan gazed into the face of Pocahontas standing over her.

"It's Elsa! She killed Ariel by freezing the lake, so now the only water source-if you don't want to go to Elsa's castle, that is-is the snow on the mountain!"

"Shit, that's true!" Mulan pushed herself up into a sitting position.

Pocahontas looked at her, surprised for a moment. She hadn't pegged Mulan as someone who would engage in profanity. "Exactly! I figured we'd be okay sleeping here for the night, but we need to hunt today and it's already 8."

Nodding, Mulan got up. Pocahontas already had the satchel across her shoulders, and the sword in her hand, so Mulan grabbed the backpack and bow and arrows.

"Welcome to day 3 of the Hunger Games, everyone," she muttered bitterly, stepping out of the cave and into the cold breeze.

"Well at least we made it this far," Pocahontas offered, shooting Mulan a sad smile.

A long moment passed while the two surveyed their surroundings.

"Yeah, that's something." Mulan finally said.

Then they set off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. So remember how we'd _promised_ you we'd update faster? Well, we did! Happy reading!**

* * *

 _Meet back at the apple tree by one,_ Pocahontas repeated in her head. It was 12:56. Bouncing lightly on her toes, she waited nervously for Mulan to arrive. She had collected clovers, dandelions, and six chicory plants. Hopefully, it would be enough for a few days. Pocahontas smiled as she gazed at the chicory plants. When she was little, she and her father would venture out into the woods and collect them to eat. She smiled at the thought, pulling absently at her hair when...

 _Snap!_ Pocahontas immediately scurried up the tree.

* * *

"I know you, I walked with you once upwan-" Belle clapped a hand over Aurora's mouth. She had been walking in between dumb and dumber for the past two days, alternating between stopping Aurora from singing and stopping Snow White from trying to talk with the woodland animals. Belle felt like a huge dope for becoming allies with Blondie and Wimpy (although Belle _was_ rather proud of her nicknames).

"No singing!" she reprimanded, teeth clenched. "Unless you want everyone to know where we are!"

 _Just remember the plan,_ she reminded herself for the fourth time that morning, _with these two as your allies, no one will consider you a threat until it's too late._

"Okay, here's the plan," Belle said, stopping near the foot of the mountain. "Everyone split up and collect clovers and dandelions. You got it? _Clovers and dandelions._ " Belle emphasized her last sentence, saying the words clearly and slowly as if she were talking to three-year-olds.

"What about the green plant with three leaves?" Aurora asked.

Belle stared at her blankly, doing a mental face palm.

She took back what she had thought earlier. Calling them three-year-olds would be an insult to three-year-olds. They were more like infants.

"You know what? Be my guest!" she told Aurora. "Now move out!" With that, she turned on her heels and headed off into the woods.

* * *

Snow White wasn't exactly sure what a dandelion was, but, determined to be helpful, she continued to search, whistling as she worked. A few minutes later, she decided that she needed a break. She stopped, not far from the tree that Pocahontas was perched in, watching her.

* * *

 _Snow White, Snow White…_ Mulan racked her brain, trying to recall all she could about the girl as she crouched rather uncomfortably behind a bush near the apple tree. She had arrived just as she and Pocahontas had heard a twig snapping. The two were forced to hide, Pocahontas climbing the tree (rather expertly) and Mulan diving behind a bush (rather inexpertly).

 _Wait!_ Wasn't Snow White the one who had eaten a poisonous apple?

And speaking of poisonous apples…

* * *

Belle was beginning to regret what she'd said to Aurora earlier. What if the girl actually tried to touch the poison ivy? Then, she, Belle, would be responsible.

 _No! Stop it!_ she mentally scolded herself. How was she supposed to win the Games if she couldn't even let someone touch poison ivy? All Belle wanted to do was return home to her father and Adam. Heck, even her boring, provincial life would be good enough for her. But was she willing to become a killer to do so?

Belle had studied basic survival skills in preparation for the Hunger Games. She knew a ton of information about how to filter water, which plants were edible, which animals had the most meat, how to tie knots, and other useful tricks. Unfortunately, no book could teach Belle how to abandon her moral values and become a killer.

But all thoughts of the Games left Belle's mind as she watched an apple roll toward Snow White. She had spotted her ally rather easily and had been making her way over to her. But at the moment, she was rooted to the spot. Almost in slow motion, she watched as the figure of a girl behind a nearby bush nodded as Snow picked up the apple. Why would the girl want Snow to eat the apple?

Unless…

"No!" Belle cried, crashing through the vegetation, axe in hand. "Snow, don't!"

Belle watched in horror as Snow turned toward her, confusion in her eyes. Then…

 _Boom!_ The cannon went off as Snow's limp body went crashing ungracefully to the ground, a bite mark clearly outlined on the apple she still had clutched in her hand. Belle nearly tripped over Snow's body in her haste to get to her, and she stared down at the lifeless eyes of the girl below her. Lifeless eyes that she was unable to connect to the ones that always shined when she was alive.

Belle whirled around to face Mulan, who had emerged from her hiding place. She was the one responsible for her ally's death.

"You," Belle growled.

Belle wasn't completely sure why she cared so much about Snow's death, but she had, rather embarrassingly, grown to like how purely innocent and blissful Snow seemed. She could be annoying, no doubt, but the gracefulness that she moved with and her light little laugh that always compelled the birds to chirp along with her almost made up for it. Yes, in a few, very short days, Belle had grown to like this girl.

She charged at the girl who had so ironically taken Snow's life, axe raised, but then, a blur of a person slid down the terrible apple tree and planted herself firmly in between Belle and her new enemy. Belle continued to rush forward, and, without hesitation, took a swing with the axe, landing it with a sickening crunch in the girl's left shoulder. Screaming in agony, the girl started to fall, but not before punching Belle in the nose, hard. Belle stumbled backward, clutching her nose with her free hand, but after a moment, she rushed forward again to tackle the girl, and the two ended up on the ground, Belle's axe placed on top of the girl's neck.

* * *

Pocahontas recognized the mad, deranged look in Belle's eyes, the one that people often got when they were exposed to too many terrible things at the same time. Even with the axe at her neck, Pocahontas couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for the girl, whom she had heard a lot of gossip about in the training time leading up to the Games. She'd fallen in love with a hideous beast, been shunned by her village for it, and then been forced into the Hunger Games to kill people. Pocahontas silently marveled that the girl hadn't gone crazy earlier.

Pocahontas realized that it was probably a bad sign—no, a very bad sign—that she was sympathizing with the person trying to kill her. She decided to blame her state of delirium on the quantity of blood that she was currently losing.

* * *

Belle felt the tip of a blade poke her in the back.

"Let her go, and no one gets hurt." Mulan said menacingly.

"You didn't give Snow that choice," Belle retorted, growling the words as if she had turned into a beast herself.

"You don't want to die, too, though, do you?"

Did she? She could avenge Snow's death by taking an ally for an ally and killing this Pocalonty girl, but she would die, too. Plus, that would make her a killer, and Belle wasn't entirely sure she could handle that just yet. She was being given the opportunity to live, so maybe she should take it.

Revenge or life? Life or revenge?

Belle finally decided on the best option she could think of—

"Belle!" A voice interrupted her thoughts before she could act upon her decision.

Belle inwardly groaned as she angled her head so that Aurora was in her sight—all that she could manage in her current predicament.

"I found some dandelions!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the sight in front of her. By this point, Belle felt like she had become allies with one of the solid boulders scattered throughout the arena, because Aurora certainly had the mental capacity of one.

"That's great Aurora, but if you could just…" Belle gritted her teeth and made a not-so-subtle gesture at Aurora's hand, which was clutching a knife, while inclining her head towards Mulan. She watched hopefully as Aurora's eyes (finally) widened in understanding.

"Oh no!" Aurora gasped as she caught up to what was going on. Before Belle could say anything, she had turned and was hurrying away in the direction she had come from, leaving Belle seething with anger and seriously regretting her choice of allies.

* * *

Mulan took this opportunity to knock the axe out of Belle's hands and press her own sword's blade to her neck.

"Now will you leave?" she spat, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. She was well aware that she could kill Belle with a swing of her sword, but she had given her a choice earlier, and it didn't seem right to take advantage of her when her "ally" had distracted her. One would have thought that Mulan would have no problem killing, seeing as her death count during the war was in the thousands, but there was a huge difference between fighting enemies and murdering innocents.

Eyes wide with fear, Belle finally nodded and scurried away. As soon as she was out of sight, Mulan dropped down next to Pocahontas, who was still conscious.

"Okay, listen Pocahontas, I'm not going to ask why the hell you didn't think I could take on that French girl by myself and stepped in with nothing but your bare hands, but I'm going to let it slide. I need you to tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being barely anything and 10 being 'I'm going to die' kind of pain, rate your pain."

"I realize the stupidity of it now—" Pocahontas began, her voice cracking.

"It doesn't matter," Mulan relented. "As Elsa would say, 'the past is in the past'. I just need to know how bad it is.

"6, I guess…" Pocahontas shrugged with much effort.

"Are you sure?"

"Fine, maybe 6.5. Or 7."

"Keep going."

"Have you experienced 10-level pain?" Pocahontas interrupted.

"Once… not the hand incident—"

"What is it?"

"I'd rather not—look. I know this is just a flesh wound, but since I sobbed like a five-year old in front of you, I couldn't care less what you do in front of me. Now give me your bag—" Pocahontas obediently handed it over. "—okay. Now. Since you got hit in the left shoulder, are you right or left-handed?"

"Right."

"Good," Mulan said, taking charge. "I want you to get on my back, because I don't care who else plans on coming to the mountain, but we need to get somewhere safe. We can hide well enough that they don't find us."

"Mulan? My legs are fine; I can walk," Pocahontas stated, trying to stay strong.

"Yes, but it overexerts the body and might increase the blood loss…" she trailed off as she saw Pocahontas relax, meaning that she really did not want to hike all the way up that mountain. The corner of Mulan's mouth twitched. It was a good effort.

Mulan wasn't sure if she was capable of carrying two backpacks as well as a Pocahontas up the mountain, but the words "I'll make a man out of you" played in her mind as she set her mouth in a determined line and started up, swearing that she could hear Shang's voice singing the song that had kept her going so long ago.

* * *

"Alright, citizens of Panem! This year's Hunger Games has been very eventful so far, with drama, suspense, and even sacrifice all taking place in the first three days. What do you say we watch the highlights of what happened?" The announcer's voice was fairly cheerful for someone who was introducing a program about an annual murder fest.

The crowd cheered enthusiastically, as it did every year.

"Great! Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!"

The dramatic, patriotic music began to play. The lights dimmed until the theatre was dark. Then, the highlights began.

It started off with clips of the blood bath, including Cinderella's and Jasmine's deaths, and then turned to Elsa's ice castle and her rambunctious musical performance. Some people in the crowd sang along, making hand motions and clapping to the beat. They seemed to forget that they were watching a program about murder, and that at anytime, another tribute could die.

After the song was over, the highlights turned to the scene that made every single citizen of District 10 cringe.

"Okay," Belle said to her allies on screen. "Anyone know any edible plants?"

"Wait, no, I know this," Aurora mused, in deep concentration. "I saw this in a book once." The screen fast-forwarded.

"So, um, it's been fifteen minutes now," Belle said casually. None of the girls had moved positions. "Are you done yet?"

"I got it!" Aurora exclaimed excitedly. "It's cute girl-marijuana!"

Evidently irritated, Belle sighed, "I remember asking you if you knew any edible plants, not if you knew what went on in 1990's raves-"

Aurora shook her head adamantly."I remember thinking about cute girls, so chick, and then marijuana, so weed! Chickweed!"

"That… is great," Belle said with a groan, making little effort to sound pleasant. "Do you remember what it looks like?"

"Um, no." Aurora's face fell.

"That's even better," Belle sighed as she buried her head in her hands from exasperation.

Back in District 10, the king, like Belle, was also groaning into his hands.

The screen fast-forwarded again, this time to the scene of Ariel's death. It skipped ahead to the incident of Mulan's hand, and Shang spent one agonizing minute watching Mulan sob uncontrollably. The Capitol cut out Mulan's near death experience at the tree, as well as Pocahontas's emotional account of Milap's death, annoying most people in District 11, and then fast-forwarded once again to Snow White's ironic death and Pocahontas' brave but stupid attempt to save Mulan from the deranged Belle. It then went back to the live feed of the Hunger Games.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Here's chapter 5.**

 **We really appreciate any feedback you have (since again, this is our first time writing fanfiction). Also, if you haven't noticed already, we've been adding a bunch of (sometimes cringe-worthy) disney puns throughout the story so far. See if you can find them! ️**

* * *

Tiana and Rapunzel sat side by side, huddled next to each other for warmth.

"It's cold," Rapunzel murmured, stating the obvious. Tiana nodded silently.

"We just need to dig a little deeper," she said. "The Games weren't meant to be easy."

Rapunzel smiled. "That's true."

The two of them sat quietly for a while. The woods were eerily silent, until the sound footsteps reached their ears. They exchanged nervous glances as the noise grew louder. Tiana hesitantly fingered one of her knives as Rapunzel reached for the handle of her frying pan.

"I did it!" shrieked an excited Merida as she crashed through the woods. Tiana and Rapunzel let out synchronous sighs of relief, quickly releasing their weapons.

She held up a bow and a pile of sticks. "Now we can go find Mulan and Pocahontas." Her eyes darkened mischievously.

"We'll set out soon," Tiana agreed.

* * *

Elsa sat regally upon her ice throne. She smiled, thinking about how easy this was for her.

 _Just a little longer until I go home and see Anna and Olaf again,_ she thought happily. _I need to keep an eye on Kristoff, make sure he doesn't try anything._ Elsa shuddered as she imagined all things Kristoff could do now that she wasn't there to protect Anna. She didn't want them doing anything… _adventurous_.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Elsa stood quickly, prepared for an attack.

"Elsa?" a voice called out tentatively. Aurora stuck her head around the front door. She was struggling to push open the front door of the castle. It _was_ made of ice, after all.

Elsa relaxed at the sound of Aurora's voice. "I'm here," she called.

"I got the information you requested on the other tributes."

Elsa smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come in!"

* * *

Aurora was getting tired of playing the "dumb blonde". She was a little offended that Belle actually bought her act, but then again, she _did_ have a natural gift in acting.

"Belle is alone now that Snow is dead. Mulan and Pocahontas are weak, both physically and mentally; Mulan let Belle escape when she had the chance to kill her! Merida is leading Tiana and Rapunzel to Mulan and Pocahontas, which passes Belle's camp, so almost everyone should be dead soon."

 _Including you,_ Aurora added silently in her head. Aurora was not an idiot; she knew that Elsa was planning to kill her as soon as she was finished doing her dirty work. But Aurora had hatched a plan to kill Elsa first.

"Good work," Elsa said, her mouth curving upward in a smile but her eyes remaining as cold as ever. "But now, I'm afraid, your work here is done."

Aurora, who had made her way back to the door, spun around, shocked. _Now? No, not yet!_ she thought as her mind raced for a way to convince Elsa to delay her death for a little longer.

"What, you thought I'd let you kill me in my sleep one night?" Elsa laughed cruelly. "Well, you were sadly mistaken." She gave Aurora a long, cold look. Aurora ever so slowly moved her hand, which was concealed behind her back, to the knife she'd tucked in the back of her dress. _Keep talking, Elsa,_ she thought. She hoped to get a clear shot before Elsa could do anything.

Fingering the knife carefully, she whimpered, "M-make it quick, okay?" She hoped Elsa would buy her act.

"Of course." Elsa stated, a crooked smile forming on her face. She aimed her hand at Aurora, and held it there for a moment as Aurora stood, paralyzed with fear. Smirking, she shifted her hand up a little bit, freezing the door shut. Then, she motioned for Aurora to follow her. _That's sick,_ Aurora thought.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream," Aurora sang quietly, hoping to attract the attention of a nearby bird that would provide the distraction she needed to get away. She began to follow Elsa up the stairs, continuing to sing quietly. "But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

 _Squawk!_ Elsa looked up sharply as three birds swooped in through the window. _Yes!_ Aurora thought, grateful that the birds had heard her. They flew around Elsa, trying to peck her eyes and skin. As Elsa screamed in fury, Aurora dashed down the stairs. She ran up to one of the windows and swung her leg out.

* * *

"You fool! You have the nerve to challenge me?" Elsa screamed, blasting a ball of ice at Aurora's foot, sticking the one that wasn't out the window yet to the wall. Aurora grunted as she made an effort to break free. Elsa swooped down the stairs, kicking the three, now frozen birds out of the way. She unfroze Aurora's foot, then sent a gust of ice and snow at her that sent her flying into the opposite wall. Aurora hit the wall with a crunch and slid limply to the ground. In a last attempt to stop Elsa, she feebly threw the knife in her general direction. It fell short and hit the ground, skidding to a stop at Elsa's feet.

"Pathetic," Elsa huffed. She sent another ball of ice at Aurora, forming a cage around her. Storming up the stairs, she didn't notice that the cannon never went off.

* * *

"Oh no, oh no," Aurora whispered to herself, unable to stop the small gulps of air that she was desperately inhaling. Her chest ached with a mixture of terror and self-pity. Though she had evaded death a moment ago, she still could not help but feel sorry for herself. Everything had been planned out so meticulously; she would pretend to be Belle's ally, then pretend to be Elsa's ally, and then outsmart them both. And she had been so close. But in an instant, her entire plan had been completely unravelled, and now, she was frozen in place and trapped between walls of ice, completely at Elsa's mercy.

 _Why is my life such a disaster_? she thought miserably. Hot tears streamed down her face as she let out a choked sob.

Aurora fantasized about her tears being magical, melting the ice, and essentially setting her free. Freedom which would lead to her winning the Games. Freedom which would lead to her going back home to her family. Freedom which would lead to her reuniting with Phillip, the man she had walked with once upon a dream. Just the thought of him made Aurora temporarily forget about her predicament. He was so kind and courageous and gentle and chivalrous and utterly _handsome_ that Aurora's heart skipped a beat just thinking of his shining eyes and beautiful smile and gentle touch. She didn't know what love was before she met him, and she remembered their first meeting as if it were yesterday. They had been on a trail with soft, green grass on both sides; brightly-colored flowers scattered here and there; and the beautiful blue sky hanging above them. Despite the ice currently surrounding her, a warm feeling spread through her body. Aurora smiled quietly to herself and opened her eyes.

Instead of seeing an expanse of soft, green grass; a sea of different-colored flowers; and the beautiful blue sky; she saw Elsa's uninviting face peering down at her.

"If you hadn't sobbed so loudly, I might not have noticed that you were still alive," Elsa said with a cold, mocking smile. "How lucky that would be." She raised her right hand. "But too late." At those words, Aurora's eyes widened pleadingly.

"Please, have a heart," Aurora whimpered, cowering under Elsa's gaze. She uttered a silent prayer as Elsa stood for a few moments, unspeaking. The two stared into each other's eyes: Aurora's desperate and begging, and Elsa's inexpressive and blank.

"Please," Aurora whispered again. Time seemed to stand still as they held each other's gaze, neither of them looking away.

Finally, Elsa slowly, ever-so-slightly lowered her arm.

 _Perhaps she doesn't have a frozen heart after all,_ Aurora thought. She watched hopefully as Elsa dropped her arm to her side. Aurora stared in disbelief. _It can't be. Elsa would never spare my life,_ she thought. She waited in dread for Elsa to lift her hand back up and shoot a lethal jet of ice at Aurora's heart, but her hand stayed by her side. A few seconds of silence ensured, in which Elsa met her gaze and gave her a small smile, which Aurora tentatively returned. Elsa angled her hand carefully, blasting a hole in the ice surrounding Aurora, leaving an opening for her to crawl out through. Aurora's heart soared with gratitude.

She immediately knelt in front of Elsa to thank her.

"Thank you, thank y-" Elsa cruelly raised her hand back up and shot out a jet of ice straight towards Aurora's heart. Aurora felt the impact and the brief moment of pain it caused. Then her entire body went limp and fell sideways to the ground, deathly cold and painfully betrayed. The world went black.

* * *

"That's a cannon," Mulan wheezed, willing herself to go further. Carrying two bags and a person up a steep incline was not an easy task. _Almost there, Mulan. You've got this. With all the strength of a raging fire—_

"Um," Pocahontas interrupted, her shoulder still throbbing and her head dizzy from blood loss, "I don't mean to complain. But, you look a little tired…" She glanced doubtfully at Mulan, who in turn tried to straighten up and breathe normally, instead of the labored, fish-like gulps of air she was currently taking. She failed miserably, almost tripping over her own two feet in her attempt. "How much farther do you want to go before we stop?"

"Just around the riverbend!" Despite the situation, Mulan couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease.

Pocahontas groaned. "Please. You don't understand. It was fitting in the context."

"You think I'm an ignorant savage. How can there be so much that you don't know?"

"Ugh," Pocahontas muttered, her head hurting from all this arguing but Mulan's sense of humor bringing a smile to her face. "I only sang both of those songs once to you-"

"Twice," Mulan managed to correct, trying to grip Pocahontas with her left hand and to keep the two bags on her right shoulder, avoiding her still agonizingly painful right hand.

"Okay, you're right, twice, but the second time was only because I didn't know how else to wake you up this morning, and you were falling asleep against a tree-"

"...and you thought I would accidentally cut it down with my sword!"

"It was a sycamore!"

"This is the Hunger Games, not an environmental movement!"

"Mulan!"

"Fine," she shrugged as casually as she could, hard to do when carrying two bags and a Pocahontas up a snowy mountain. "My point is, it's hard to trust your morals. It was also your idea to 'run the hidden pine trails of the forest' while looking for food and look where that got us." Mulan continued to stumble up the slope, breathing heavily with each and every step.

"Are you alright?" she panted, glancing back at her ally, who without meaning to, had become almost a close friend. Pocahontas had her head resting on Mulan's shoulder and didn't respond.

 _Oh no, she's losing consciousness,_ Mulan thought. As much as she had been trying to move smoothly up the mountain, her strength was starting to fail her and she was now staggering like a drunkard up the slope. It probably hadn't been helping her ally, judging by her unresponsive state.

Mulan looked at the two bags on her right shoulder, and then at Pocahontas. Her eyes darted, conflicted, between the two, her mind racing. One more look at her ally's pale face did it for Mulan.

Wordlessly, she dropped the two bags from her shoulder and used both her arms to piggyback Pocahontas. Mulan only just realized how heavy the packs had been; it felt like fifty tons were lifted off her shoulders. It made her slightly regret leaving them behind, even if only temporarily; Pocahontas must have collected a lot of food in there.

But, she still had her weapons. Her sword was tied to her waist with the red sash that came along with her dress. Her bow and arrows were slung over her left shoulder. Mulan had decided quite early that she would never leave herself without a weapon in these Games, and she was determined to stick to her decision no matter the circumstance.

She proceeded to climb up the remainder of the slope, and, despite wanting to collapse onto the ground, used all of her remaining energy to gently lower Pocahontas onto the floor of the cave. Then her legs gave way.

* * *

Pocahontas's heart practically melted when she saw Mulan's body crumple to the ground in exhaustion, knowing that she herself was the primary cause and that it could have been avoided. A pool of guilt sat uncomfortably in her stomach as she mentally kicked herself for acting so irrationally earlier in the morning. Now, instead of being a useful asset to the alliance, she was a liability. And it did nothing but increase the likelihood of Mulan turning on her, and her chances of getting killed by other tributes.

But, considering the fact that her ally had just painstakingly carried her up an entire mountain, Mulan cared more about her than she had realized. After all, Mulan had had the perfect opportunity to abandon her—or, as Pocahontas realized with a shudder, even kill her—but she had done neither. Mulan must care about her to some degree to go through the effort of bringing her all the way up with her. Pocahontas smiled slightly through the throbbing in her left shoulder.

After roughly half a minute, Mulan picked herself off of the ground and moved towards the opening, explaining, "I'll go get the backpacks. I'll be right back."

"But you just got here," Pocahontas protested.

"I'm fine," Mulan insisted, stubbornly picking up her sword and leaving the cave as Pocahontas let out a guilt-ridden sigh.

* * *

Despite being out of breath and cramping severely, Mulan couldn't risk someone else taking their only food supply at the moment.

When she reached the bags, Mulan took a piece of whatever plant Pocahontas had gathered, trusting that she knew her plants, and brought it to her mouth. Eating virtually nothing for a day and a half had taken its toll on her and Mulan was determined not to die of starvation.

She chewed the rest of the plant on the way up and finished off a second one while she was at it.

* * *

As Merida, Tiana, and Rapunzel trekked through the woods toward the mountain, Merida couldn't help but congratulate herself on her genius. In the case that she didn't get her hands on her weapon of choice, Merida had formulated a plan beforehand.

Her district token was a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a pine tree on it. Unbeknownst to the Gamemakers, the string was not any ordinary string, but the elastic type perfect for bow-making.

When Merida was little, father had taught her how to quickly fashion bows and arrows. Though she had never had to use the information until now, Merida still remembered her five-year-old self carefully carving out the shaft of an arrow and expertly placing the string onto the bow, with her father's strong, skillful hands guiding her own. The knowledge had stayed with her all these years, and Merida had finally put it into use. Her hastily-made bow was far from perfect, but it would serve its purpose. The arrows were not the best, but they were sharp enough to kill. Overall, everything was fairly decent, especially considering the fact that she had made them in a day and a half, with her only materials, excluding the bowstring, coming from the woods.

Merida, giddy with excitement, whistled a Scottish tune as she and her allies worked their way through the trees. They had decided to lay low for the past three days, staying under the radar, but today was the day they would prove themselves. A small smile crept its way onto her face. They would be underestimated no longer.

* * *

Music. Belle froze on the small boulder she was sitting on, her ears snapping to attention, listening hard. More music. Louder music.

She pushed herself to a kneeling position, eyes searching wildly for a better place to hide. Her heart pounded against her chest so loudly that she could swear that its sound was audible. The whistling grew louder as she frantically swept her gaze over the small clearing she was in.

Finally settling on a decent spot, Belle darted behind a nearby bush, peering through the holes to see who was coming.

She felt her lungs constrict as Merida, Tiana, and Rapunzel came into view. All were armed with weapons: Merida had her bow and arrows, Tiana had throwing knives, and Rapunzel… Rapunzel had a frying pan?

Belle questioned their choice of weapons, but considering she was unarmed, having left her axe behind in her encounter with Mulan and Pocahontas, she wasn't exactly one to judge. She shifted to the left so that she could get a better look, but her arm brushed against the bush's leaves as she did so, causing her to freeze in terror.

"Wait, I think I hear something," Tiana said to the others, stopping to look in Belle's direction. Belle's breath caught in her throat. She cowered behind the bush, silently sending a prayer to the gods. She heard the group coming closer. She shrank backwards in fear, sitting deathly still and trying to stay as silent as possible.

 _Please don't see me. Please don't see me._

The bush's leaves were moved aside, revealing Belle's terrified face.

"Plea-" she started to beg, before her face was bashed with a frying pan, her neck was slit open with a knife, and her heart was pierced with an arrow. Then the world went black.

* * *

"That worked, though we probably didn't have to split the kill," Rapunzel said, cheerfully wiping her frying pan clean of Belle's blood as the cannon sounded.

"Remember, we agreed to split easy kills," Merida replied, retrieving her arrow from Belle's chest.

"I know, but I'm just saying," Rapunzel giggled. It only bothered her a little that she was killing other people, but it was better than being killed herself, wasn't it? These people were all her enemies, even Tiana and Merida, whom she would eventually murder.

"How much farther until we get to Mulan and Pocahontas?" she asked. "We've been walking for _forever._ "

"Almost there," Tiana replied. "Patience. It's just a little further."

As they talked, a silver parachute descended upon them, landing just before Merida. She picked it up in surprise, carefully turning it over to see the gift that it came with. Rapunzel bounced lightly on her feet, smiling as she looked over at the gift.

"What is it?" she asked excitedly as a slow smile spread over Merida's face.

"Gold," she answered, holding up a quiver holding twelve professional arrows.

* * *

Mulan and Pocahontas ate their first real resemblance of a meal in three days. At home, Mulan would have made an effort to eat elegantly, but here, hunger was too strong a force to resist, even if it meant using table manners that looked like the Beast's from District 9. Mulan also didn't bother packing snow in front of the cave opening, instead choosing to slump on the floor while eating with Pocahontas.

 _I'll do it later,_ she reasoned with herself, taking advantage of the fact that Pocahontas didn't have the heart to ask her to stand up and do it.

A small thumping noise gained Mulan's attention. She and Pocahontas shared an alarmed look as the noise grew louder.

"Someone's here," Pocahontas stated the obvious. The two of them stared at each other. Mulan's mind raced as she looked into her ally's eyes.

"You stay in here," Mulan ordered in a voice full of all the authority she could muster. "Okay?"

Eyes wide, Pocahontas nodded.

Mulan slowly stood up and picked up her sword. She peered around the edge of the hole to see Merida, Tiana, and Rapunzel a few meters away from the cave.

She felt herself give a sharp intake of breath. A cloud of fear constricted her lungs. There were three of them, and Mulan was on her own. She was aware that she was better trained than all three of them, but sometimes sheer number impossible to work around.

She gave a quick shake of her head to clear the panic. There had been many wars, as she had learned, where the enemy outnumbered the District 2 army five to one, and yet they had still won. There had even been times where they had claimed victory when matched _ten_ to one. Those feats made her predicament seem like child's play. Feeling a little reassured, she forced herself to do what she had been trained to do in the army: assess the enemy and analyze the situation.

Mulan took several deep, calming breaths before thinking. She knew Merida had a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, so it would be better to wait for them to come nearer, so that the inevitable fight would be close range and hopefully hand to hand. That way, the advantage of the bow's range would be compromised. Mulan wondered how Merida had managed to get the weapons, but now, she realized, was not the time to ponder. She'd also seen that Tiana had throwing knives, so Mulan would have to be alert at all times. Mulan was good at dodging and had inhumanly quick reflexes, so that was an advantage for her, but she didn't know skilled or unskilled Tiana was. Soon, she would find out, Mulan realized with a wry smile. Finally, Mulan was slightly confused as to what weapon Rapunzel was holding, but she was the girl with the healing powers, so if Mulan wanted to take her out, she would have to deliver something that killed immediately.

The sound of feet crunching against snow grew louder. Another wave of fear swept over her body, but Mulan quickly forced it to the side. She could not afford to be afraid. _No fear,_ she told herself. After another set of soothing exhales, she knew that the tributes had reached their cave.

Mulan took a deep breath and stepped outside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Once again, sorry for the delay, but this chapter took a long time to edit. Anyways, we hope you enjoy! This chapter's a little dark, so we decided not to ruin it with puns (and also to spare you the pain of reading them).**

 **We also recently made a discovery that we could use a function in the editing tool to separate parts instead of using a line of o's like we've been doing (though it's pretty embarrassing to admit that it took us three months to figure that out). We're going to start using those now and also edit our previous chapters, so hopefully now our chapters will be more pleasant to the eye without a random string of o's every few paragraphs.**

* * *

 _Zing!_ Mulan had only taken one step outside before an arrow was flying towards her. Letting reflexes take over, she dropped to the ground right as the arrow shot past just above her head. She rolled quickly to her feet and swept a swift gaze over her opponents, rapidly forming a loose plan in her head.

Mulan advanced towards Tiana, the closest of the three. She deflected a knife with her sword and stepped closer, dodging a blow from Rapunzel as Merida nocked another arrow. Mulan brought up her sword and slashed Tiana across the chest, whose feeble attempt to stop her catapulted head over heels in the air until it hit the snow in front of the cave with a thud. Mulan then put Tiana out of her misery by landing a second blow to the heart. Blood spurted out from her wound, some of it landing in Mulan's eyes, and Mulan tried to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach.

She jumped to the side to avoid the arrow that she knew was coming as she quickly swiped a hand over her eyes to wipe the blood away. Taking a few deep breaths, she was about to charge at Merida while the latter was nocking an arrow, but from the corner of her eye, she saw Rapunzel charge at Pocahontas, her club/cooking utensil-like "weapon" raised above her head.

Without thinking, Mulan turned around and sprinted in the other direction, just as Rapunzel was about to bring her weapon down on Pocahontas. In one swift motion, Mulan beheaded Rapunzel-a clean, painless kill. Blood shot out of her neck, most of flowing into the snow and staining it red. The weapon Rapunzel was holding dropped out of her hands, banging on Pocahontas's head and almost knocking her out. Mulan winced at the ringing noise it made upon contact, but wasted no time on dwelling, instead turning back towards Merida.

Her eyes widened. A sickening dread filled her stomach. Merida was aiming an arrow straight at Mulan, and with a quick release of her fingers, sent it flying.

Merida was a good distance away. Mulan definitely would have been able to dodge the arrow. No, that wasn't why she was suddenly filled with dread.

It was because Mulan _couldn't_ dodge the arrow. Pocahontas was behind her.

 _If I die, I die with honor,_ Mulan repeated to herself, Shang's words' meaning finally becoming clear to her.

Mulan stood there unmoving, and steeled herself.

With a thud accompanied by an unbearable, burning pain, the arrow hit Mulan in the stomach, in the same place that Shan Yu's sword had made its mark so long ago, but yet she carried the memory as if it happened yesterday.

Grasping her side, Mulan crumpled to the ground, her eyes squeezed shut, drowning in pain.

Mulan wasn't wishing that she was back at home.

Guilt consumed her as she found herself wishing she had never left.

* * *

Pocahontas's scream rose up in her throat as she saw Mulan's figure go down in front of her.

"Mulan!" she tried to voice, but no sound came out. To her horror, she saw that Merida was aiming another arrow at Mulan to confirm the kill.

In the midst of her panic, Pocahontas picked up Tiana's knife from the ground and hurled it at Merida in a desperate attempt to stop her. The knife was heading in a direction so far away from Merida that she didn't even bother moving aside, just stood there as it sailed by, smiling smugly at Pocahontas.

"Ha, missed me," Merida smirked in a voice so full of conceit that Pocahontas would have punched her even if they weren't in the Hunger Games. "Thought you could stop me by getting those bows and arrows, but guess what? I have skills to make my own."

 _I want her to die,_ Pocahontas thought angrily. It was a rare moment of hatred. But the rarity of her hatred only increased its danger.

"And looks like you can't even aim a knife at someone standing five feet away from you, so say goodbye now, Pocahontas." Merida's smirk widened.

Pocahontas gave her a piercing glare. She hated Merida, hated her with all her might, because of what she had done to Mulan. Perhaps it was irrational hatred, because it _was_ the Hunger Games, after all, but it was the most intense, burning hatred she had ever felt for a single person.

"I wasn't aiming for you," Pocahontas said quietly. She watched as Merida's head tilted in confusion, and then as realization slowly dawned upon her features. Almost as if dreading what she was about to see, Merida followed Pocahontas's gaze until it landed on her bowstring, which was cut in half and dangling limply beside the bow, rendering it useless.

Merida's eyes widened in disbelief, and then flashed with fear as she turned her head back towards Pocahontas. She let out a shaky breath before whirling around and sprinting down the mountain. Pocahontas watched her escape for a couple seconds with the slightest twinge of satisfaction. Then, her gaze hardened. Satisfaction was not enough. She wanted vengeance.

Picking up Mulan's sword from the ground next to its fallen owner, Pocahontas sprinted, faster than she ever had before, after Merida. All her pain was forgotten, now that Mulan was in greater pain than she was.

She reached Merida in an instant and delivered a blow with all her might at her back. Merida fell to the ground with a groan, eyes begging for mercy. Blinded by fury like never before, Pocahontas brought her sword down on Merida again, this time on her chest. Pocahontas felt nothing when she saw the crimson blood spurt out of the wound and onto her own hands.

In a moment swallowed by fire and hatred, Pocahontas repeatedly slashed Merida across her whole body, mutilating her, and continued to do so even after the cannon had sounded, stopping only when Merida's remains were left in seven pieces.

Pocahontas stood there and stared at the bloodied mess that she had created, knowing that with the pain she'd just inflicted upon Merida and the sorry state her body was left in, she had just delivered the cruellest kill in this year's Games.

She turned over her hands and saw Merida's dark red blood staining them.

She wiped her palms on her dress, but the blood remained on on her hands.

Pocahontas let out a shaky breath. She wiped her hands again, harder this time, but the blood was still there.

Her hands were trembling now. She rubbed her them against the fabric, desperately now, willing the color to come off them, begging the blood to go away. But no matter how hard she tried, it seemed as if her hands stayed crimson, slathered in the blood that she had drawn.

Pocahontas took a deep breath. _This is who I am now,_ she told herself. _I'm a murderer. Accept it."_

She looked back down at her hands, but this time with forced indifference. She gave a wry smile.

 _Mulan! I forgot about Mulan!_ she realized suddenly. She widened her eyes in horror, cursing herself in her head.

She spun around and willed herself to run as fast as she could to Mulan's aid.

* * *

"Mulan!" Pocahontas's voice seemed to ring in her ears as Mulan lay on the ground, curled up in a fetal position, trying to staunch the flow of blood that was now pouring out of her wound. She felt herself being cradled in gentle arms and lifted back into the cave.

"Mulan," Pocahontas repeated, gently prodding her until she opened her eyes. "This is going to hurt, but we need to pull the arrow out."

* * *

Mulan nodded bravely, clenching her jaw in anticipation.

"On the count of three. One, two, three!"

Pocahontas pulled hard, the arrow coming loose in her hands. It was accompanied by Mulan's scream that was half-muffled by her hands, but was still the most heart-wrenching sound Pocahontas had ever heard.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I know I tried to save you this morning, but I ended up hurting you, and I am so sorry. But you're going to be okay." Mulan responded by coughing up a spray of blood. It trickled down the side of her face and onto the snow, staining it a dark maroon color. Pocahontas tried not to stare too long at it, a sick feeling in her stomach.

Even more blood now gushing like a river from Mulan's abdomen, causing Pocahontas to gasp. She was not supposed to be losing this much—

"Reopened war wound," Mulan said faintly before drifting into unconsciousness.

* * *

Shan Yu loomed above her, his eerily evil face peering down at Mulan.

"No, please, not again," she whispered. His sword came down on her, slashing her over and over until she was a bloody mess.

"Someone…" she croaked, tears forming in her eyes.

An army of Huns crowded around Mulan, all grinning down at her.

"I call her eyes," one declared.

"I want her blood," another cackled.

"I'll take her legs."

"Arms."

"Brain."

"And I'll be eating her heart," Shan Yu announced with a sinister laugh that echoed in Mulan's head.


	7. Chapter 7

**We actually posted within a few days of the last chapter, which NEVER happens! Thank you for sticking with us.**

 **We also want to clarify that we're not taking any of the Disney sequels into account, just the original movies, and pairings will reflect this. Most of the sequels _suck_ (especially Pocahontas 2 and Mulan 2) so we'd like to pretend they don't exist.**

 **Now, without further ado, here's Chapter 7!**

* * *

Back in District 2, Mulan's parents, along with Shang and several other family friends, stood silently in the town square amongst the sea of other citizens. A heavy feeling hang in the air, as if each and every individual, not just Mulan, had been stabbed in the stomach themselves.

It would be an understatement to say that Mulan was beloved in the eyes of District 2. Everyone admired her bravery, brilliance, and fierce loyalty to her people. It was every parent's wish for their child to possess the same filial piety as Mulan did for her parents, and it was each child's desire to learn to fight as well as she did for the army. To learn that she would die in this abhorrent form of government torture was sickening to all. This was the girl who had saved them all and yet would have to die such a painful death at such a young age.

Shang stood amidst the crowd. He saw several people tearing up, overwhelmed with emotion. His own eyes were dry, but it took a lot of self control to achieve that. His mind screamed at him to do something, anything, to stop this, but he knew that he could do nothing. Why, of all people, did it have to be Mulan? Why did she have to die? Why was she so selfless? Shang couldn't bear it. First he had lost his mother when he was little, and then his father to the war, and now he was going to lose Mulan to the Games, all within the span of twenty years. He didn't know if he would take any more.

A heavy weight settled in his stomach as he agonized over things they had planned to do together: places to visit, furniture to buy, toasts to make—things he had once dreamed of doing with someone he truly loved, but now would never become a reality.

As each thought became more and more painful, an idea came to mind. He could at least ease her pain before she died, since there was nothing he could do to save her. Hardening his jaw, Shang made his way up to the stage.

"I know we all love Fa Mulan, right?" he began, scanning the crowd which chorused "yeah" half-heartedly, devoid of all hope.

"She's the person who risked her life to save us all. She's the brave soldier who charged against Shan Yu when all hope seemed to be lost. She's the one who came up with the plans to both defeat the Huns and enter the palace to defeat Shan Yu. If it weren't for her, we'd all be living under the Hungs right now, here in District 2." Shang spoke passionately , having to stop to compose himself.

"She's our heroine, and it isn't fair for her to die like this. I know it's asking too much for us to get her the Aplexia medicine from the Capitol to heal her, but the least we can do is pool our money and buy her pain medication, so that she can at least die in peace. All of us here, every one of us, owe her our lives, so why shouldn't we give back? If we all donate a few dollars, we'll have enough for it. I'm going to start by donating my life savings." Shang rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, dropping them symbolically into his container. He watched as Mulan' family came up and did the same. Soon after, a person close to the stage reached out and dropped in a thousand dollars. At the sight of the amount of money, Shang's jaw nearly dropped; the man must have been extremely rich. But when he saw the person's clothing it dawned on him that he was just an ordinary citizen with a normal yearly salary of $1,500.

Another man approached the stage. He opened his hand to release a wad of bills, and from Shang's point of view, he would have pinned the total at no less than $1,200. Suddenly, everyone in the crowd was swarming to the stage, most contributing sums of money that were equal to ten-months' salary. Shang surged with gratitude at the touching gesture. For the next few minutes, he stood silently, in awe of everyone's generosity. He thanked everyone repeatedly, repeating the words over and over again to each person who was willing to give up their own money, and he watched as the container slowly filled up with the hard-earned money of District 2 citizens. When the last person had finished making their contribution, Shang returned onstage and counted the money out loud. His face broke out into a smile, the first one in what felt like forever.

"Thank you so much for your generosity. We have enough—" he started, cut off by a cheer that rippled through the crowd. "—for bandages… as well as Aplexia!" He swallowed with a great effort as another deafening cheer erupted, a cheer that showed that Mulan had all of District 2's support behind her.

* * *

Pocahontas silently rattled off every cuss-word she knew as she gingerly set Mulan's head down. The poor girl kept muttering and twitching like she was having a nightmare, but Pocahontas didn't dare wake her up in fear that being conscious would be more painful. She ripped a thin strip of cloth off the rim of her dress and wrapped it around Mulan's torso, hoping that it would stem the bleeding, only to watch in horror as the cloth almost immediately soaked through with blood. Gulping, she reached over to grab the blanket, and wrapped it tight around Mulan. Pocahontas swallowed the cry that threatened to escape her as she stepped outside of the cave and picked up the bow and arrows. _Might as well get some food,_ she thought dejectedly. A little moan came from the cave, and Pocahontas turned around. Her heart throbbed painfully at the thought of Mulan dying while she was away, cold, in pain, and alone. _Please let an angel come,_ she thought, not for the first time since the Games had started.

Although this time, it wasn't so sarcastic.

* * *

As night fell upon the arena, Elsa gazed out of a window in one of the turrets of her castle. She looked out at the forest and snow-capped mountains, then up at the starry sky. It was beautiful, really. Despite being artificial, the sky and full moon made the castle glint in the most magical way. She heard the anthem begin to play, and watched the succession of dead princess's pictures light up the sky. At the end, a rather morbid message flashed across the sky: Three left.

 _Already?_ Elsa smiled. From the moment she had been reaped, she had known that this year's Games was going to be much shorter than past ones. With half the usual number of tributes and even fewer tributes with actual brains, Elsa had known that this was going to be easy for her. In fact, it was almost _too_ easy. Almost as easy as building a snowman…

 _Wait! Don't the gamemakers always make sure everyone has a reason to return to the Cornucopia at the end?_ Elsa wondered. She replayed some of the awful scenarios the Gamemakers had come up with in previous years in her mind — a pack of wild dogs chasing the tributes, lightning that burned down supplies, volcanic eruptions that destroyed shelters, and countless others. _Maybe they won't bother this year,_ she thought hopefully. _There are only three of us left, they wouldn't try to hurt me now and ruin the finale._ But her attempt at reassurance wouldn't chase away the nagging feeling that she was being too optimistic.

Choosing to ignore it, Elsa returned her gaze to the stars, remembering when she and Anna had done the same thing.

 _Anna…_

Elsa wondered what Anna thought of her quick return to isolation and of her plan to use Aurora. Anna had fought so hard to make everyone believe that Elsa wasn't a monster and wouldn't use her powers for evil, and it may have been true back then. But over the past few years, Elsa could feel herself becoming more and more isolated. The people had accepted her, yes, but there was always a certain mistrust between them. Anna was always a condolence, but she was spending a lot of time with Kristoff. And Olaf was always off playing with the children in the square. Elsa had been stressed for a while now, and she had been struggling to resist the urges to just put her kingdom and her old life in the past and leave. And now? Now, she was participating in the Hunger Games, impatiently waiting for the deaths of her fellow tributes like they weren't living, breathing, beings with families.

Like they weren't someone else's little sister.

Elsa had tried hard to keep the promise she'd made to Anna; she wouldn't kill everyone the second the Games started. She would only kill as many people as needed to return home. But now there were only three of them left, so surely she could make a move, right?

Elsa slept fitfully that night.

Well, at least until she heard the terrifying sound of ice being crushed, and awoke with a start.

* * *

Pocahontas returned to the cave empty-handed. She had refused to look up at the faces if the victors as they flashed ominously across the sky, but she did stop, just outside the mouth of the cave, to gaze up at the sky as two solemn words flashed across the sky: Three left. _And soon to be two,_ she thought miserably, her thoughts returning to Mulan, lying down in the cave and barely managing to cling onto the last threads of life in her body. Pocahontas turned and pressed her forehead to the rough stone of the mountain and sobbed quietly into her hands. It was all too much.

And with her eyes closed, she didn't notice the giant fireball that went streaking across the sky in the direction of Elsa's ice castle.

* * *

"Ahhhh!" Elsa shrieked as she scurried to look out the window. There, she saw a giant ball of fire laying in the wreckage of the left wing of her castle. Elsa knew that it was impossible for the castle to burn down, but it was definitely possible for it to be knocked down, so she had to get out, fast. Screaming in fury, she turned and ran down the stairs, almost reaching the door when another fireball blasted her backwards. The fireball smashed into the wall and rolled until it came to a stop in the wreckage, casting eerie red and orange light on the blue-purple ice. The castle started to fill with smoke, and coughing, Elsa staggered through the hole in the wall, but not before a third fireball crashed into the wall behind her, sending shards of ice flying in her direction. Elsa felt one particularly sharp piece rip open the skin at back of her leg as she escaped into the woods. When she could go no further on her injured leg, she collapsed to the ground, hot tears streaming down her face. She created an ice bubble around her leg to help catch some of the blood that was flowing down it. _How ironic,_ she thought bitterly, _that I should be injured with the very element that has always been my greatest source of power._

And for the first time in forever, Elsa wondered if she really could be defeated.

* * *

 _Whoosh!_ Pocahontas glanced up sharply as a flaming ball of fire streaked across the sky. She turned her attention to Elsa's castle, noticing for the first time that it had been attacked by a giant fireball and another one was currently making its way there as well. She watched in awe as it crashed into the glistening ice castle, illuminating the sky. Pocahontas smiled inwardly. Then, she finished watching Elsa's castle be destroyed by three big balls.

* * *

The next two days crawled by. Pocahontas had successfully killed two squirrels ( _two!_ ), then fed almost all of the squirrel meat to Mulan. Elsa scrounged around the woods, killing animals with quick shots to the heart. And Shang fought unrelentingly with the Capitol to send in the supplies he had purchased.

"What do you mean, it's unfair? We paid for this to go to Mulan and it _will_." Shang fought to keep his voice under control.

"I'm truly sorry, sir," said the peppy receptionist, not sounding sorry at all. "But the higher-ups don't approve of sending in this drug."

This lady was getting really annoying. She wore too much makeup, wore a shirt like it was a dress, and she had needed help opening 'Safari' on her computer. She had no idea what she was doing, and nothing annoyed Shang more.

"Fine!" he said. But then an idea came to him.

"What if you put this at the Cornucopia?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Hmmm…" the lady said. She sat there contemplating.

About a minute later, Shang asked, "Um, could you check with your boss, please?"

"Oh, of course! I'll be right back!"

* * *

"All right!" Caesar Flickerman's voice boomed out over the arena. "It's that time! As I'm sure you know, I'm here to offer you the chance to get something you desperately need. And this year, we have supplies and much-needed medicine awaiting you! So, with open arms, I invite you to the Cornucopia at sundown!"

"Medicine?" Pocahontas's eyes lit up as she looked at Mulan. The girl was sickly pale and shuddered with every shallow breath she took. _A chance to redeem myself,_ Pocahontas thought eagerly. For the past two days, she had attended to Mulan, using water to cool her down and fire to keep her warm and trying to stop any signs of infection that appeared in Mulan's wound. Getting up, she was stopped by the soft touch of a callused hand.

"Don't go." Mulan said, pleading with her eyes. "I'll die anyway."

Pocahontas felt a pang in her chest. "You don't know that." she said. "There's still hope, and as long as there's hope, I'm going," she said firmly. Pocahontas grabbed the bow and arrows and headed off towards the woods.

Pocahontas had gotten considerably better at shooting, and could actually hit her intended targets now, but she knew that she'd have to grab that medicine first, or Elsa would take it. She reached the Cornucopia faster than she wanted to, so she crouched behind a clump of bushes and watched the sun sink lower into the sky, until finally it was dark and a table lifted up out of the ground.

* * *

Elsa saw the big backpack with her name clearly sewn into it next to the smaller pack that her fellow tributes desperately needed. She crouched, ready for Pocahontas to make the first move.

And, like Elsa knew she would, she did.

* * *

Pocahontas sprinted to the pack as soon as the table stopped rising. She picked it up and sprinted back in the direction of the mountains. She was surprised that Elsa hadn't shot at her yet.

 _Whoosh!_

There it was. But Pocahontas had anticipated the shot, and she started to run in a zig-zagged path. Then, after keeping that up for almost a minute while Elsa pursued her, she felt the first ball of ice on the back of her thigh. Pocahontas gasped. The pain from the ice was unlike any she had ever felt. It consumed her leg, and she could feel an extremely sharp pain and a numbing ache, both at the same time. Nonetheless, Pocahontas kept going. When she began to run out of breath, she loaded an arrow with shaking hands, stopped, and turned. As expected, Elsa stopped as well and held out her hand, preparing to shoot. A second later, Pocahontas felt a ball of ice hit her shoulder. However, she had already fired an arrow before the ice had hit her… right at Elsa's shooting hand.

The arrow made it's mark, and Elsa screamed in agony, crumpling to the ground.

Pocahontas had counted on Elsa not being used to being the one in pain, and she turned and ran, putting a good minute between them. She sped up, running faster than she ever had, and finally reached a clearing at the foot of the mountain where the mouth of the cave was visible. Pocahontas fumbled with the pack, her hands turning blue as she did due to the wound on her shoulder. She tied the strap of the pack around an arrow and fired it into the cave.

She hoped it didn't hit Mulan.

Then, hearing Elsa's uneven footsteps approaching, she spun around and headed off along the edge of the mountain. She prayed that Elsa had not seen her shoot the pack into the cave.

But above all, she hoped that when Elsa killed her, she made it quick.

* * *

Elsa slowed after half an hour of pursuit, then came to a full stop. She could no longer shoot ice from her injured hand. She fell to her knees, sobbing. No ice powers!

Who was she without them?

 _Pocahontas_. It was all _her_ fault!

It was impossible to describe the dueling feelings inside of Elsa right now. She felt hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless. She had been so close to going home, seeing Anna and Olaf and all of her people. She had had so much confidence coming into the Games — she had a huge advantage over her opponents after all. But now the thing that made her unique was rendered useless and it was likely she would never make it home. She could not help but feel a burning sense of fury, directed at Pocahontas, for squashing that confidence she had felt. She would make her pay for what she had done.

Feeling new resolve, Elsa got up and started searching for food, vowing to direct all her anger and fury at Pocahontas.

 _Poor girl won't know what hit her._

* * *

Mulan saw a blur shoot over her head. She limply reached her fingers out towards the mysterious object. She summoned all of her remaining energy to heave herself so that she was within six inches of the package, and weakly dragged it towards her.

Her fingers, slippery with her own blood, struggled to open the bag. She fumbled with the zipper as she forced her eyes to stay open.

 _Hold on_ , she could hear Shang's voice in her head. Hold on. Mulan jerked open the zipper…

… and found nothing.

* * *

"Would you care to explain the meaning of this?!" Shang yelled at the Head Gamemaker, Mr. Ratcliffe, as his anger and panic combined to lose all of his self control. He had been the one to travel to the Capitol to purchase Mulan's gift, and had been allowed to watch the live feed of the Games in the Capitol Theatre alongside Mr. Ratcliffe. Shang, initially, had been surprised at the privilege, but now he understood that Mr. Ratcliffe had only wanted to witness his reaction in person.

"Good afternoon to you too, mister Li Shang," Mr. Ratcliffe replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see that you are back to your old cheerful self."

"This is cheating!" Shang yelled, ignoring his comment. "This is corruption!"

"How, may I ask?"

"You know very well _exactly_ what I am talking about!" Shang spat. "We bought it! We bought the Aplexia! We even put up with your stupid, fucking ways and put it in the Cornucopia instead of delivering it straight to her, and as it turns out you didn't even put it at the Cornucopia like you promised!"

"Oh, but I did," Mr. Ratcliffe said with a sly smile. "Just not in her bag." There was a moment's silence.

"You," Shang began.

"Oh, yes."

"So you mean that—"

"I mean that Elsa currently has a backpack with bandages and the Aplexia in it, and Mulan has the pack with Elsa's 'gift' in it, which is the lovely element of oxygen, since her sponsors didn't send her anything."

Shang stood up angrily and stalked out of the building, using up all of his remaining self control to stop himself from punching Mr. Ratcliffe in the face.

 _Think_ , he forced himself. _What would Mulan do?_

At those words, a lightbulb went off in his brain, and Shang ran as fast as he could back to the sponsor center.

"I'd like to buy a gift, please," Shang said, holding onto the leftover money after buying the Aplexia.

"How much money do you have?" the lady at the desk inquired.

"Twenty thousand."

"What do you want to buy? You have enough for everything except medicine."

* * *

Pocahontas started to climb back up the mountain, worried that Elsa would be pursuing her and that Mulan would be needing her. She heard something move behind her and immediately turned around, but in her haste, she tripped over a twig and face-planted onto the ground. Pocahontas dropped an F-bomb as she landed on her injured arm, before scurrying to her feet, terrified to face Elsa.

An innocent silver parachute lay at her feet. Pocahontas let out a small sigh of relief along with an awkward laugh.

Getting herself together, Pocahontas picked up the parachute, fingering it gently as she did. Since the fabric had patterns of swords on it, she could tell that it had come from District 2. She allowed herself a small smile. She had initially been afraid that Mulan's entire district would loathe her because of what her presence had prompted Mulan to do, and injure herself while doing so, but even if she could do nothing about her ally's state, at least her ally's district accepted her as, in a way, a friend.

Taking a deep breath, Pocahontas turned the parachute over.

"Huh?" she said aloud, confused. In her hands was a small, circular metal object. Inside was a small arrow, centered on a circle with the letters "N", "S", "E" and "W" written on it. As much as it confused her, the object seemed familiar. Pocahontas racked her brain. There was no way the tiny circle could be food or medicine, and unless it was designed to be of some hidden lethal use, it was definitely not a weapon. She stared at the object in her palm for a few more seconds, when suddenly it occurred to her.

"Wait a second!" she exclaimed out loud in her 'eureka' moment, not caring that she was talking to herself. She had seen one of these before. She closed her eyes, recalling her days back in her village when white settlers had invaded their land and almost waged war upon her people.

Pocahontas opened her eyes in a flash. She remembered now. It was the spinning arrow from her dreams, the one John Smith had told her was called a compass.

Pocahontas looked down at the compass, fingering it tightly at the memory of John. As always, its arrow was pointing north, in the direction she had just come from.

 _Am I supposed to follow the arrow, the same way I did before?_ she thought, even more confusion settling in. _Isn't that where Elsa is?_

Pocahontas figured that District 2 wouldn't have wanted her to get hurt, or worse, killed, especially since Mulan desperately needed her right now. But what if they hadn't intended for her to follow the arrow? But then again, why would they have sent her a compass if that weren't the case?

 _Maybe there's something going on that I don't know about,_ Pocahontas thought. _Maybe Mulan needs me to go north._

 _Mulan…_

An image of her weakened ally flashed into her mind, and Pocahontas knew what she had to do.

Pocahontas started at a walk, which soon became a jog, and within seconds it turned into a full-on sprint northwards, towards Elsa.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Here's chapter 8.**

* * *

Pocahontas sprinted at full speed for about five minutes before she reached Elsa's location. She slowed to a stop, hiding behind a tree for cover, and caught her breath.

Elsa's hand was still bleeding. Her crimson blood was trickling onto the ground, where it gathered in a pool.

Pocahontas's mind raced. Could it be that she couldn't shoot ice anymore?

Pocahontas watched as her suspicions were confirmed when Elsa attempted to create a wall around herself, and failed miserably, her frustration showing on her face.

 _What are you waiting for?_ a voice in her brain screamed. Taking a deep breath, Pocahontas charged out from behind the tree and down the slope towards the clearing that Elsa was in.

Due to her silent footsteps, she managed to get halfway down before Elsa noticed her presence. Startled, Elsa whirled around and took off towards the woods. Pocahontas ran after her in pursuit. Her fingers nocked an arrow, and after taking careful aim, let it fly.

The arrow narrowly missed, and instead pinned the top of Elsa's backpack against the trunk of a sycamore. Stopping in her footsteps, Elsa tugged desperately at the bag, even as Pocahontas advanced closer, but to no avail.

Elsa finally seemed to realize that she couldn't get the bag loose, so she turned and ran away without it, hurrying through a clearing and into the cover of trees. Pocahontas, determined to reach her, chased her in pursuit, but in her haste, her right foot caught against the trunk of the sycamore, and within seconds she was pitching ungracefully to the ground.

Pocahontas scrambled to her feet, searching desperately for a trace of Elsa, but the latter had disappeared into the sea of trees and it would be hopeless trying to catch up with her.

Pocahontas dusted herself off, heavy with disappointment. She couldn't help but feel defeated. It was as if she had failed Mulan and the rest of her district by squandering probably the only opportunity she would ever get to kill Elsa.

Sighing, Pocahontas made to turn back, when her gaze landed on Elsa's backpack, still pinned against the tree.

 _I might as well take her things,_ she thought. It took a few tries to jerk out the arrow, but after a few minutes, she managed to do it.

Pocahontas opened the zipper to see what was inside. To her surprise, a white medicine bottle lay at the bottom of the backpack, with the shiny red word "Aplexia" printed on it, the medicine used to heal fatal stab wounds from swords or arrows. Pocahontas furrowed her brow. She had guessed that Aplexia would have been inside her and Mulan's bag, seeing as Mulan desperately needed it. But to have the same medicine inside Elsa's bag was puzzling. Elsa seemed perfectly fine, except for the wound on her hand, but Aplexia was meant to bring someone back to life on the brink of death, not just to heal small wounds. There was other cheaper, better-suited medicine for that purpose.

A thought struck her.

 _What if they switched the bags?_

Pocahontas's eyes widened. It seemed like just the sadistic trick the Gamemakers were always itching to play. After everything they had done before, it was far from below them.

 _In that case, there's no time to waste._

Tightening her grip on the strap of the backpack, Pocahontas sprinted as fast as she could back towards the cave.

* * *

"Mulan!"

The voice seemed so far away. Maybe it was her ancestors calling for her to join them. She wouldn't mind; it would be better than this living hell.

"Hold on, you're going to be okay!"

 _No, I'm not._

"You're not going to die!"

"Please let me."

"What?"

Mulan realized that she had said that out loud. She forced her eyes open and saw Pocahontas kneeling beside her.

"Don't worry, I got the Aplexia," she soothed, grabbing Mulan's arm to inject her. Her reward was a spray of blood in the face as Mulan coughed, each movement causing her more and more pain.

"Hold on. One, two, three!"

Mulan barely even felt the tingle it caused, but she did feel Pocahontas grabbing her hand and trying to rub some warmth into it. Mulan couldn't help smiling a little at the gesture, even though she was still ice-cold.

Pocahontas helped Mulan move into a position in which she could wrap the bandages around her. She cleaned the wound with melted-snow water, and then began the task of laying down the bandages.

* * *

When Pocahontas was done, she surveyed the work in front of her. She noticed that Mulan's blood loss had diminished drastically within five minutes, and she hoped that the pain would lessen at least a little. Although Pocahontas had tried to be gentle, she couldn't always manage it. The wound was obviously serious, and she had to bind it tightly. Mulan, on her part, had done her best to stay silent, but she couldn't always help herself. Pocahontas had told her repeatedly that she could scream, cry, or release whatever sound necessary to let out the manifestation of her pain, but Mulan wouldn't listen.

"Are you hungry?" Pocahontas asked.

"No."

"Thirsty?"

"No."

"Cold, at least?"

"No."

"Does it still hurt?"

"No…" Mulan trailed off as Pocahontas gave her a look. "Maybe…"

 _Liar,_ Pocahontas thought. Only after force feeding Mulan some water and the remaining squirrel meat did she feel satisfied. After she was finished taking care of Mulan, she began to feel the soreness in her muscles and the blisters in her feet, the consequences for sprinting nonstop for about half an hour on bare feet. Oh, and the ice-coldness that was now running through her right arm and left leg.

"Should I build a fire?" she asked, unsure. "And Elsa can't shoot ice anymore," she added.

"How did that happen?" Mulan exclaimed. "And of course, go ahead. Even if she does see, I doubt she'll try to fight you without her ice."

Pocahontas tried to suppress her smile as she told Mulan everything while warming up next to the fire. The coldness went away after an hour, and they just talked the whole time, Mulan grinning with pride when she heard that Pocahontas had managed to get in two good shots within an hour: first, the shot to the hand, and then at the backpack. Pocahontas let slide the fact that she hadn't been aiming for the backpack, especially since Mulan seemed to be excited and a little back to her usual self.

"Here, let me get you a blanket," Pocahontas said, standing up and wincing at the pain the movement caused. The fire had helped with Elsa's injuries, but not her sore leg muscles, in which she was feeling the beginnings of a cramp.

"Quad stretches, you've got to do them,: Mulan tutted, recalling a memory. "I didn't do them on my first day of training, and the cramps hit me like a brick the next day. I could barely move my legs; I only got two feet up that pole. Shang yelled at me so much." She smiled at the memory.

"What's a quad stretch? And who's Shang?"

"Here, lift your leg up behind you and hold…"

"Who's Shang?" Pocahontas repeated while doing what Mulan said.

"The most honorable, brave, selfless, determined, brilliant, caring…" Mulan had to stop herself from ranting on with positive adjectives. Pocahontas got the drift and changed the subject upon seeing Mulan's sad face.

"Well, it's getting late," she stated. "Want to get some sleep?" Mulan nodded, shivering at the coldness that night brought. She curled up on her side so that the pain would be easier to bear. She had to remind herself that Aplexia would save her life, not ease her pain.

Pocahontas moved in next to her and laid the blankets over them the way Mulan had shown her the first day. She was alarmed to discover that Mulan's body was ice cold, and her arms were wrapped around her abdomen, as if she could press away pain. Without thinking, Pocahontas instinctively wrapped her arms around her and moved them up and down to try to create some heat, the way she would a younger sister, not realizing what it may look like to some viewers.

Mulan felt a little better in this position, almost comfortable. And she felt strangely safe with Pocahontas's arms around her, for the first time in what seemed like forever.

* * *

"I ship them," Mr. Wiggins said excitedly, almost bouncing in his seat.

"Are you implying that they're both bisexual?" Mr. Ratcliffe asked doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you see them just now? If that wasn't spooning, I don't know what is—"

"I'm positive they were just cold—"

"I just administered a poll; 70% of Panem agrees with me!"

Mr. Ratcliffe stared at Mr. Wiggins for a few moments. Then he turned and walked away, shaking his head and muttering as he went.

* * *

Pocahontas slept fitfully that night. She dreamt that she was in the woods on the outskirts of District 11, and John Smith was there too. Pocahontas kept trying to run to him, but he remained just out of reach, disappearing whenever she got close.

"John!" Pocahontas cried out as he disappeared yet again. She ran forward to catch up to him, and a moment later, he came into view, standing by a stream.

"John?" she called again, this time more uncertainly.

John ignored her as he stared out the water.

"Why?" he asked a moment later, pain evident in his voice. "Why would you do that?"

"I— what? John, what are you talking about?"

"Mulan." he said, glancing up to finally meet Pocahontas's eyes. "Pocahontas, you're in the final three! Mulan was weak and dying. Elsa had lost her powers. You were on top! You were the alpha! You could have finished them both off!" John paused to calm himself down. "You could have come home," he said softly. "Why would you fight so hard to save a girl you just met? She'll kill you in your sleep, I'm sure of it."

Pocahontas gasped in horror at John's words.

"Mulan is an honorable warrior! She would never turn on me like that!" But even as the words left her mouth, Pocahontas began to doubt herself.

"Really?" John asked. "When the time comes, do you really think she'll hesitate for a second to kill you?"

"I—"

"No, she won't, and you know it."

"But—"

"No buts! You have to kill her now while you have the chance! You have the upper hand, don't you see that?"

"But John, I can't!" Pocahontas cried.

"Why not? Did you think she'd just let you win?"

"She's my fri—"

"No! Pocahontas, _no one_ is your friend in the arena."

"But I can't kill her!"

"You have to!" Then, more softly, John added, "Don't you want to see me again?"

"Of course, but—"

"Then it's settled." John stood up. "You _will_ kill her."

"No John, I can't!" Pocahontas pleaded with her eyes for John to understand.

Anger flashed across his face. "Can't you see what she's done? She's giving you every reason to trust her so that you won't kill her! Pocahontas, she's playing you!"

"I—I can't, okay!" Pocahontas sobbed, burying her face in her hands. The stress of the Games was starting to get to her.

"You have your chance. Why can't you take it?" John looked into Pocahontas's eyes. She didn't answer.

"Well I can't love someone who's willing to abandon me like this."

"What?!"

"Goodbye, Pocahontas." John turned and disappeared into the woods.

"Wait! John! Please come back!" Pocahontas started after him, but she was stopped when a cold blast knocked her to the ground.

It was Elsa.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance, you fool!" Elsa cackled. She held her hand out over Pocahontas chest and was about to shoot when suddenly she was engulfed in flames. A new person emerged—Mulan. She stood over Pocahontas's cowering form, sword in hand.

"Did you really think I'd let you win?" Mulan snickered. She thrust the sword into Pocahontas's chest.

* * *

"No!"

Mulan opened her eyes sleepily to find Pocahontas sitting up, gasping and clutching at her heart.

Mulan sat up, alarmed.

"Are you okay?" she asked, placing her hand lightly on Pocahontas's shoulder.

Pocahontas shrugged it off. "Yes," she panted. "I'm fine. Just… had a nightmare…" Pocahontas looked at Mulan with watery eyes, still panting, and Mulan stared back, taking note of the uncertain, fearful expression that Pocahontas wore.

Pocahontas lay back down.

"Sorry," she said, her voice strained. "Just go back to bed," she mumbled.

Mulan gave her a quizzical look. Then, deciding to ignore it, she went back to sleep. She didn't awake until 11:30 the next morning—the Aplexia was making her drowsy—only to find that there was no trace of her ally.

Or any of her belongings.

* * *

Pocahontas flew through the trees and over logs, leaves crunching with every footstep. She felt an agonizing pang of guilt every time her feet hit theground. She had to get away from Mulan, she reminded herself over and over again. It wasn't safe to have an ally this late in the Games. But Pocahontas couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a huge mistake.

"For John," she muttered under her breath. "For John."

* * *

Mulan spent ten minutes looking for Pocahontas (she still was rather weak), unable to shake the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something. Then she remembered Pocahontas's nightmare and the look she had given her.

"No!" Mulan gasped, eyes widening in realization of what Pocahontas had done. "She wouldn't!"

Mulan breathed out a shaky breath, cursing herself for trusting Pocahontas. The logical part of her brain didn't understand why she felt so betrayed—Pocahontas had done what anyone would have at this stage in the Games. In fact, she should probably be thankful that Pocahontas hadn't killed her!

But Mulan, however unconsciously, had come to think of Pocahontas as the sister she never had.

* * *

Pocahontas ran nonstop for about fifteen minutes before resting. It was what she always did at home when she needed to relieve herself of her stress, and she was usually able to last a lot longer, if it weren't for the two backpacks she was carrying swinging back and forth with every movement of hers, the extra weight making her head spin.

She hadn't truly appreciated when Mulan carried them for her until she tried it herself. What felt like nothing at the beginning now weighed down on her shoulders like a thousand bricks.

Pocahontas felt another twinge of guilt, this time for taking all of their belongings. The honorable thing to do would have been to leave one bag for Mulan, or even more honorably, leave them both, but Pocahontas couldn't risk her ally keeping possession of their weapons in case Mulan found her later on and killed her for abandoning her.

 _For John_ , she reminded herself.

She tried to ignore what she suspected Mulan would have done.

 _You selfish brat,_ a voice in her brain snapped, _she saves your life by taking an arrow for you and you repay her by taking advantage of the situation, running away with all of her belongings, and ultimately leaving her to die? The only reason she can barely move is because of you, because she is selfless and you are not—_

"Stop it!" Pocahontas cried, not caring what the viewers thought about her mental state. Her head was pounding hard, and Pocahontas leaned against a tree and slid down the trunk until she was sitting at the base, hugging her knees to her chest.

Headaches from stress and fatigue, she was used to. It ran in her family. Migraines, like this one, she was not.

Pinching the bridge of her nose to keep from passing out, she waited in vain for the pain to subside. This, coupled with the awful guilt she felt over abandoning her ally, caused hot, burning tears to form in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face between her knees. The world slowly darkened, then went black.

* * *

"Okay, I will to do this," Mulan said to herself for the fifth time in twenty minutes. She was sprawled on her back on the ground, the two blankets—the only possessions that Pocahontas had left her—clutched close to her chest. She had nearly passed out from the exertion of walking—or more accurately, staggering—around for ten minutes straight. All Mulan really had done was circle around the cave, slowly spiraling outwards, before she saw stars in her vision on her third circle. It was no surprise that she hadn't found Pocahontas.

Pressing one hand to her abdomen and the other against the wall of the cave for support, Mulan gingerly inched her way upwards until she was standing upright.

"Ow," she mumbled, grimacing at the movement. She slowly shuffled along the wall until she was in the open.

Great, she thought, staring at the steep decline in front of her. H _ow am I going to get down…_

Suddenly, an idea popped into her brain. Seeing her situation, it wouldn't hurt to try it (no pun intended).

She placed her two blankets on the snowy ground and carefully sat down on top of them. After pushing off a couple times, she slowly started to move. She gradually gathered speed and then the slope became steeper…

Soon, Mulan found herself flying down the mountain, a scream stuck in her throat. She was speeding along at an exhilarating pace, strands of hair whipping her in the face, and clumps of snow gathering in her hair…

 _Maybe the Hunger Games can be fun after all,_ Mulan thought with a wry smile as she reached the bottom. Her smile broadened as she saw a pair of footprints leading into the woods. So, Pocahontas hadn't covered her trail after all. She probably hadn't counted on Mulan being able to walk.

 _Serves her right,_ she thought bitterly as she followed the trail, using a stick as some sort of cane, like her father and grandmother did. She was moving at a pace that was slower than both of theirs, but she told herself that she would get there. Eventually.

Mulan wasn't sure what it even was she was planning to do when she found Pocahontas, but if she was going to die anyway…

She felt some illogical justification in dying next to her, at least. Or because of her.

* * *

An hour later, Mulan stumbled along the footprints, not bothering to rest. She saw a familiar figure leaning against a tree. The long, dark hair that hung around her head in a halo gave her away.

Cautiously inching closer, Mulan lurked in the shadows of the tall trees around her. She braced herself in case Pocahontas decided to kill her, which was very possible.

"Pocahontas?" Mulan said timidly, coming closer. She didn't move, so Mulan prodded her shoulder. When she still didn't respond, Mulan realized that she was unconscious.

What should she do now? Mulan weighed her options. She could take the sword from her backpack and kill Pocahontas right now. The thought made Mulan cringe. That was the most dishonorable thing to do; killing someone when they were down. Although Pocahontas had betrayed her and taken all of their belongings with her…

This brought Mulan to her next choice. Take Pocahontas's belongings, which she was technically entitled to at least half, and leave her be. Mulan's hands shook as she pondered the option. It felt like the most cliche thing ever, but she just couldn't do it.

She could do the honorable thing and leave without disturbing her. She should do the honorable thing and leave without disturbing her.

 _Reflect before you act. This shall bring you honor and glory._ Mulan recalled the words of the final admonition that she had recited, or attempted to recite, before the Matchmaker back home. She had reflected before she acted, but it would bring her honor _or_ glory, not both. _Do I want honor or glory?_ she asked herself. With her options laid out in front of her in this manner, there was not a trace of doubt left in Mulan's brain which one she should choose.

She took one of her blankets and draped it around Pocahontas's shoulders. Then, she turned and walked away, not touching anything else.

* * *

Pocahontas slowly woke up with the feeling of something warm around her. Maybe it was a fireball that the Gamemakers had sent, like they did to Elsa. Maybe she had been transported to a deserted wasteland. Maybe, like the white Christians that had always preached to her insisted she would, she was burning in—

 _Wait_ , Pocahontas thought as she opened her eyes. She merely had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. But where had it come from? Sponsors? No, she didn't see any silver parachutes. Gamemakers? In her dreams. Other tribute? Like Mulan would even be able to stand, let alone walk through the woods for an hour. And Elsa? Sure, of course Elsa would be making her warm. Even if she did have a blanket, it would probably be ice cold or something…

But as Pocahontas looked closer, she saw that there was a pair of footprints right next to her own, and continuing away from where she was sitting. She looked down at the blanket, and she almost gasped out loud as her suspicions were confirmed. It was one of the blankets that she had left with Mulan, and it was the warmer of the two.

Pocahontas brought her hands to her face, and was not surprised that, for what seemed like the hundredth time since the Games began, they were wet with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Mulan," she whispered out loud. "I thought I could paint with all the colors of the wind. But I know now; I could never be as honorable or as selfless as you." With those words, Pocahontas stood up and started following the footprints.

* * *

"That does it," Mr. Wiggins sobbed, bursting into tears.

"We did get a nice, dramatic, scene out of that, but nothing's been happening for the past three days," Mr. Ratcliffe frowned. "Perhaps it's time to send in some acid rain—"

"No!" Mr. Wiggins blurted out, desperate. "I can't bear it! We need a rule change! There should be two victors allowed!"

"You're just like those teenage girls on Headbook!" Mr. Ratcliffe snapped, referring to the popular social media website used in Panem.

"Look! Look at this poll!" Mr. Wiggins cried, holding up his jPhone for him to see. "92% of Panem agrees with me!"

"What?" Mr. Ratcliffe practically spat out the word like he had just tasted poison. "Give me that." He stared at the page, scrolling down to see the other polls. "What… how are people thinking this way? Do they not want a dramatic, compelling fight?"

"Now 85% of Panem ship them…"

"What's their ship name anyway?" Mr. Ratcliffe frowned, forgetting to be serious in the midst of his curiousity. "Muhontas? That is certainly, undoubtedly, irrefutably, unquestionably disgusting—"

"Pocalon."

"Pocalon…"

"Yes, and see how many people have put a hashtag Pocalon in their comments? 71% of them can't choose who they want to win, 68% say they would rather end the Games right now than let them go on, and—"

"Ridiculous!" Mr. Ratcliffe yelled, everyone in the theatre turning to look at him at his sudden outburst. "Nonsense! This isn't possible! They're supposed to like the Games!"

"Uh, sir, the fact that we force people from their districts to fight to the death in an arena probably doesn't help…"

"Quiet!" Mr. Ratcliffe silenced him, his eyebrows scrunched up in deep concentration. "Perhaps wouldn't be such a bad idea to give them a chance to have two victors if they last long enough…"

"Yes!" Wiggins exclaimed.

"But it won't be as easy as they thought it would. It's about time we started sending in some obstacles. Create another poll. I have an idea."

* * *

Elsa collapsed against a tree, fuming. How could this have happened?! She was the f*cking ice queen, for heaven's sake! How could she lose her powers to two weak, non-magical idiots?

"Gahhh!" Elsa clutched at her hair as she put her head between her knees, trembling as she tried to calm herself down.

This cannot be happening, she thought, choking back sobs that threatened to escape her. She sat like that for what seemed like hours (but in reality was only a few minutes), seething in anger and despairing over how her luck had taken a turn for the worst.

Elsa had never felt so powerless. She had always had a problem controlling her powers; she was always too powerful, not powerless! And besides the frivolous attempts by Hans, Elsa had never been attacked before either. She had never felt fatigue or pain like this, and she figured that that was the main reason she could no longer formulate ice. Well, the fatigue, pain, and them.

I will kill them! Elsa thought callously. Both of them. A sadistic gleam appeared in her eyes. First Mulan, she thought, picturing it in her head. Then Pocahontas. And I'll do it slowly, so she can feel my pain; how it feels to live in agony. All I have to do is use a few blasts to the—

And then she remembered.

"Pocahontas!" she screamed in fury as she stood up, thrusting her fist into the sky as if Pocahontas were a cloud and she could hit her if she shook her fist hard enough.

"I'll get you for this!" she cried, stomping her foot so hard that the ground shook and she fell, landing hard.

She hit something cold.

"What the?" Elsa muttered, looking down at the ground.

And there she saw it, the most wonderful sight she'd ever seen; a patch of glittering ice had driven a crack through the ground and all the way up through the trunk of the tree.

Elsa stared in shock for a few moments. She warily raised her hands out in front of her, mentally prepared herself for failure, and shot.

A blast of ice erupted from her fingers, with more power than she had ever mustered.

The blast hit a tree, and it exploded as the ice made contact with it, splintering into millions of tiny pieces.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone!** **Here's chapter 9:**

* * *

Pocahontas hadn't been following Mulan's footprint's for long before she reached her. Mulan was leaning limply against a tree, head bent back with both hands pressed firmly to her stomach.

"Mulan?" she called out tentatively.

Mulan opened her eyes, but otherwise remained where she was. "Welcome back," she muttered sarcastically. "I hope you had a safe trip."

Pocahontas hesitated, not sure how to start her apology. She figured she would only have one shot at making amends."Well I just came here to say that… Look, I'm really sorry, I—"

Mulan snorted. " _Right,"_ she said, drawing out the "i" sound. She pushed herself off the tree and crossed her arms over her chest, giving Pocahontas a hard stare. "Come to finish the job?" she said, gesturing to Pocahontas's hands.

Pocahontas turned red when she realized what it must look like for her to be standing there with two weapons in her hands. She wordlessly dropped all of the supplies she was carrying on the ground, then threw the sword and bow and arrows at the ground near Mulan's feet.

"I'm sorry," she tried again. "I never should have left you." Pocahontas choked down the lump that formed in her throat. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I wanted to say sorry. I had made a vow before the Games started that I wouldn't let the… the pressure of victory change me. But it has. And I'm sorry that you were the one who had to suffer the repercussions.

"Again, I don't expect you to forgive me," Pocahontas shifted nervously on her feet, "but I want you to know that I will think nothing less of you if you kill me, right here, right now." She offered Mulan a small, crooked smile. "I probably deserve it."

She anxiously searched Mulan's face for a hint of what she was going to do next, but Mulan's face remained stoic. A long moment of silence ensued, and Pocahontas's heart broke a little when she realized Mulan wasn't planning on saying anything.

"I'll just go… then…" Pocahontas sighed and walked away.

* * *

Mulan knew what life or death situations did to people. After all, she herself had suffered from PTSD from the war. It wasn't uncommon for people to think unclearly, buckle under the pressure, or just give up all together.

Hell, even Mulan herself had been a victim of these things. She had just been lucky enough to have understanding people to support her through them. Maybe that was all Pocahontas needed.

Mulan sighed. If only she had come to this conclusion earlier. Then she wouldn't have had to endure any more pain trying to find Pocahontas again.

* * *

Pocahontas was quite honestly the biggest idiot she knew. Not only had she thought that abandoning Mulan was a good idea, but then she had had the bright idea to go _back,_ begging for her forgiveness as if she expected Mulan to suddenly trust her again! She kicked every rock, stick, and plant in sight, cursing her stupidity. Then, she stopped, and put all of the innocent objects back in their original positions, mentally apologizing to each one of them.

Pocahontas crouched on the ground next to one of the poor flowers that she'd kicked and cradled her head in her hands, breathing deeply to calm herself. She had made enough stupid decisions when she wasn't thinking clearly, and she couldn't afford to make any more.

But because of the jumble of thoughts in her brain, she payed no attention to the giant crunching noise of a tree snapping under the pressure of the colossal amount of water that was being released from the top of the mountain.

* * *

"Quiet!" Mr. Ratcliffe yelled as he rose to address the group of Hunger Games executives assembled in front of him. They sat around a large rectangular chestnut table with Mr. Ratcliffe at the head and Wiggins at his side.

The chatter around the table subsided, and everyone turned to look at Mr. Ratcliffe.

"I have an update on the Games. As I'm sure you've heard, the people of Panem no longer want a bloody fight. But what you probably _don't_ know is that for the first time in decades, there have been protesting in the outer districts. While we've done our best to surprise these attacks, the people are still upset, and unfortunately that upset will undoubtedly lead to anger when they realize we don't plan to do anything about it. And we _all_ know what happens when the people get mad at the government." Mr. Ratcliffe paused to let the men reflect on what had happened the last time the people had gotten mad at the government. The looks of fear that passed over the men's faces told him that his comment had had the desired effect. He needed them to know that they couldn't afford to make any stupid decisions.

"92% of Panem supports this new idea of 'Pocalon'. They're calling for a rule change."

Mutters and protests immediately rose up from the men.

"Quiet, please!" Mr. Ratcliffe announced again.

"We have sent in more obstacles." At these words, the screen behind Mr. Ratcliffe lit up, showing the chaos that was breaking out in the arena. "I will assess the situation from here, and later, we will decide if a rule change is necessary. It is critical that we keep the people content. We don't want a revolution on our hands, now do we?"

He raised an eyebrow at the group of men before nodding at Mr. Wiggins and striding briskly from the room, waving his hand to dismiss his employees.

* * *

"Pocahontas!" Mulan cried as a giant wall of churning, black water approached her crouching figure.

Pocahontas glanced up sharply, only to be knocked over as the massive wall hit her.

Mulan's heart barely had time to seize up in panic before the wall of water hit her as well. It pushed her backwards with such force that she found herself being helplessly carried away from Pocahontas, completely powerless against the current. She struggled to orient her body so that her feet were facing downstream, so that if she hit into something, at least her head would be safe, but she could barely figure out which direction was which. A long, terrifying moment later she broke through the surface of the water, gasping and spluttering.

"Pocahontas!" she cried out. She wasn't sure if Pocahontas had had enough time to take a deep breath before she was hit.

Then, something grabbed at Mulan's ankle, and she found herself being pulled underwater.

Mulan thrashed wildly, but whatever had grabbed her continued to pull her down, away from the surface and, most importantly, oxygen. She struck her foot out at it and was rewarded with a set of razor-sharp teeth clamping down on her foot. She screamed in pain, swallowing more water, and black spots began to cloud her vision. She searched desperately for her attacker, only to find the eyes of Merida staring back at her.

Mulan's heart nearly stopped.

Merida's smooth, pale skin had turned disheveled and wrinkly. Her veins popped out of her skin, the bright blue color starkly contrasting against her skin, and her nose had become a flat piece of skin. Her mouth now carried a set of sparkling, shark-like teeth, tinted pink with Mulan's blood.

But what scared Mulan the most were the dull, lifeless eyes that bore into her own.

Mulan felt something else bump into her arm, only to find a similar looking figure—Jasmine—assisting Merida.

 _Oh god,_ she thought hopelessly. When would it end?

* * *

Pocahontas, being a very experienced swimmer, had managed to out swim the zombie-like figures of Belle and Tiana before they could do her too much damage. She had spotted Rapunzel swimming towards another struggling figure not far away, and she followed her until she reached the figure, who was, as she had suspected, Mulan.

A wave of terror overcame Pocahontas when she noticed that Mulan was floating in the water unconsciously. She swam closer and began to pull her up towards the surface when a hand clamped onto her arm. Pocahontas resisted the urge to scream and tried to yank her arm out of the death grip of her attacker. But it was to no avail.

A sort of wrestling match ensued with Pocahontas flailing and kicking and her attacker, Merida, dodging her blows and struggling to pull Pocahontas away from the surface. She finally managed to land a kick on the Merida's stomach and thankfully, Merida's hand loosened its grasp on her arm. Pocahontas wasted no time in pulling away and driving her foot into Merida's head. Her head snapped back violently when it came in contact with Pocahontas's foot and her body became limp as she floated away.

Pocahontas quickly grabbed hold of Mulan and brought her up to the surface, only to have Jasmine and Rapunzel pull her back under. This time, faced with two attackers, Pocahontas decided fighting normally wouldn't work. The princesses were much faster than her underwater and she stood no chance against two of them. Instead, she grabbed hold of Rapunzel's hair and swam around Jasmine, effectively trapping her. Jasmine tried to bite her way out of the hair in an attempt to escape, but it only resulted in a fight between her and Rapunzel, who was hoping to protect her precious hair. Pocahontas took this opportunity to drag herself and Mulan onto a branch of one of the tallest trees in the arena, which was now only four feet above the surface of the churning black water.

But before she could attend to her… ally? Ex-ally?, Pocahontas heard a blood-curdling scream, and turned her attention to Elsa, frantically swimming away from a mass of inky black tentacles. She continued to watch as Elsa shot ice wildly over her shoulder. Pocahontas highly doubted it would find its target, but miraculously, the ice hit the creature… only to bounce right off, not even making a mark on its skin. The creature emerged from the water, cackling darkly, and Pocahontas's heart plummeted.

It was Ursula.

Pocahontas glanced quickly at the limp form of Mulan, then back at the now defenseless Elsa. Her eyed widened in horror, for she knew that not even the colors of the wind could save them now.

Then a tentacle wrapped itself around her feet and within a second, all she could see was black.

* * *

Mulan sat up with a start, choking up water as she went. She tipped forward dangerously, feeling the world around her spin, until her surroundings slowly came into focus.

Somehow, she was sitting on a branch above the entirely flooded arena, with a perfect view of Elsa and Pocahontas struggling against a giant purple octopus, an octopus which she realized all too late was rapidly advancing towards her.

She hadn't even been conscious for five seconds before a tentacle mercilessly wrapped itself around her ankle, yanking her down into the inky black water.

Darkness clouded her vision as her head was forced underwater. She struggled to escape, desperately twisting back and forth, but the more she fought, the tighter the tentacle's grip became. Her lungs screamed for air as she moved blindly for the surface, worn and disoriented, without knowing which way was up and which way was down.

The faint beginning of panic crept in. Every direction felt like it was down, and between her blurring vision, her steadily expiring breath of air, and the octopus's iron grip, Mulan knew the chances of her surviving were at an all time low.

Her lungs burned. Thrashing wildly was no use. All she could do was stay still and hope.

The water stilled around her. Through its darkness, one ray of artificial sunlight was visible. _There. That's the way up_. Repositioning herself, she fought for what she now knew was the surface with as much strength as she had, kicking and turning violently, until _finally_ the octopus's grip eased just the slightest bit.

 _It's now or never._ Gathering every last ounce of energy, she flung herself towards the surface, towards the air. She felt her ankle shoot out of its hold, and suddenly, finally, she could breathe.

Mulan had never tasted sweeter air than that of those two blissful seconds. In those two seconds, she managed to take two deep breaths and look around the water. She saw Elsa shooting ice at the octopus, which bounced off harmlessly every time, though that didn't stop Elsa from shooting in vain. And after one last desperate breath of air, Mulan felt another tentacle wind itself around her waist and pull her back underwater.

Mulan didn't have sympathy for Elsa. In fact, she despised the girl for many reasons. But at the moment, they had a common enemy they were fighting against, and as she remained trapped and submerged, Mulan couldn't help but miserably wish that Elsa was more intelligent, or that a more intelligent person had possessed Elsa's ice powers.

 _Why is she just shooting ice when she knows it's futile? Can't she create an ice monster to fight the octopus for her? It's not like she hasn't done that before. Or block it with ice pillars. Heck, she can just even freeze the water._

Mulan gave a weak kick in a feeble attempt to escape a second time. The hold around her waist tightened.

 _Ancestors, please help me,_ she prayed, lungs burning with pain. _Help me because I don't want to die yet. I want to go home._

* * *

Pocahontas could narrowly make out Mulan's figure disappearing underwater. She herself was barely above the surface, and that was only due to practice from hours of swimming in the river back home. She struggled to avoid Elsa, whom she could feel twisting wildly around beside her between trying to get another shot at Ursula, despite her ice clearly being ineffective.

Suddenly, she felt a jet of something cold shoot through her hair. The few strands that it passed through now stuck together stiffly and upright, unmoving as if frozen. She knew immediately that it wasn't an accident.

 _Of course,_ Pocahontas thought bitterly. _We have a common enemy, but that doesn't make us friends._ She brought back one of her legs and gave a violent kick, trying to get away from both Ursula and Elsa, but she succeeded in neither. A tentacle yanked her back through the water, leaving her no time to react before her head was submerged underwater.

She was trapped between two enemies, both of whom were aiming to kill her, and the only thing she could see was black. The water, her limbs—everything was blurred by the ink. Even Ursula's tentacles were stained black. Pocahontas's lungs were on fire. All she could think of was air.

And then, all of a sudden, she felt Ursula's tentacle unwind from her legs and the water around her turn ice cold. She turned around to see Elsa with a look of shock on her face, her hand outstretched towards Pocahontas, like she had just finished shooting a jet of ice.

There was one second of complete confusion, and then sudden realization. Rapidly, Pocahontas burst through the surface of the water before it was too late. She hauled herself onto the block of newly formed ice, choking and spluttering with Elsa a few feet away, doing the same.

Pocahontas stared at the newly transformed landscape with wide eyes.

Elsa had frozen all the water in the entire arena.

Ursula's now frozen body lay submerged in the ice. Only three tentacles lay twitching above the surface, thrashing around wildly. Elsa smiled wickedly, realizing what she had done, and leisurely stretched her hand out at one of the tentacles and shot at it.

* * *

Mulan had lucked out. When Elsa had frozen the water, she had been suspended above the water. And after summoning the last fibers of energy that remained in her, she kicked, hard, at the creature's tentacle, and it released her.

She hit the ice hard with a smack, and ended up flat on her back, struggling for breath.

* * *

Elsa knew she had won. Her two fellow tributes lay weak and fatigued on the thin sheet of ice that separated them from the monster named Ursula. She had fantasized often for the past few days about how she would kill them. _Mulan first,_ she thought, _and slowly. Then Pocahontas can watch as I rip her apart._

 _And then,_ she thought, _it will be Pocahontas's turn. Yes. I'll draw hers out, too. I'll start at the tips of her body and move inwards…_ a devilish smile had crept onto Elsa's face.

 _And she can watch as I freeze her heart and—_

Elsa was distracted momentarily by one of the three flailing tentacles that had escaped its icy encampment. Scowling, she shot at it, knowing it would have no effect whatsoever, but still annoyed that it had distracted her from her fantasies.

* * *

Pocahontas had seen Elsa shoot and she knew it had been a foolish thing to do. She watched silently as the tentacle flung itself in the general direction the ice had come from. It smacked into Elsa with so much force, the sickening crunch of her bones breaking could be heard from where she was sitting. Elsa's eyes rolled back into her head, her limbs fell limply to her sides, and she was thrown backwards. Her body flew through the air in a graceful arch until finally landing in an unnatural position with her leg bent at an odd angle.

Pocahontas had barely registered what had happened until she saw Mulan. The warrior had propped herself up into a sitting position, gazing at Elsa's body with a wistful and pained expression.

She managed to catch Mulan's eye and inclined her head towards Elsa, as if to ask, _Is she going to die?_ Before Mulan could answer, the sound of a cannon confirmed the final two.

* * *

 **Remember to review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the really long delay guys! Here's chapter 10:**

* * *

"Tributes, may I have your attention please," the loudspeaker cackled. "There has been a rule change." Warily, Pocahontas and Mulan sat up, both anxious and curious to hear what this new mystery rule change would be. Neither of them wanted to hasten the time before their inevitable fight to the death, so the announcement was a welcome distraction.

The announcement continued.

"This is due to the trending topic of Pocalon."

Mulan blinked. _Is that what I think it is?_ she thought, appalled. Mulan knew that people would always be able to concoct ridiculous theories based on nothing but speculation, but she was shocked that millions of people actually truly believed in this… extremely humiliating rumor. Her mind raced to think up anything the two of them had done over the course of seven days that could be in any way misconstrued. _Let's see, we hiked up a mountain, fought tributes, ate food...oh_. Mulan suppressed a groan. _We shared a blanket_.

She caught Pocahontas's eye and they both turned away, embarrassed. Mulan felt her face burning. _This is ridiculous. It doesn't exist, I don't have feelings for her, and she treats me like a sister anyway_. Mulan was straight; she knew that she loved Shang. And Pocahontas had once talked about someone back home. _Why the hell would they try to create more drama? As if it's not hard enough as it is._

"Tributes. You have dazzled us with heroism, selflessness, intelligence, and bravery. We have decided to swing the odds in your favor."

There was silence as the the two tributes nervously waited for the announcement to continue.

"The rule change is…"

The announcer paused for dramatic effect.

"There can be two victors."

 _Two victors?_ Pocahontas nearly jumped up at the idea. _Two victors… that means Mulan and I can go home._

 _Two victors?_ Mulan looked around warily. There was hope, but Mr. Ratcliffe had said, "there can be two victors". That practically ensured more obstacles, drama, and suffering.

"Both of you will be allowed to win if you both can survive until 12:00 AM tomorrow night. Have fun! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

* * *

There were conflicted feelings back in District 2. On one hand, Mulan actually had a chance to return home with her honor still intact. On the other hand, people didn't know what to think of this controversial Pocalon subject. Since everyone knew that Mulan and Shang were together, they had simply brushed the topic aside before as simply a wild piece of fiction which some attention-seeker had made up, but now that it was famous nationwide, they had no choice but to acknowledge it and try to dispel it.

In District 11, however, only John Smith was angered by the news. Since he and Pocahontas had been meeting in secret, only the small group of people in Pocahontas's working unit had found out about them, and even they had grown to root for Mulan as well. John Smith didn't think that the two-victor rule was a good thing; Mulan was already weak, so Pocahontas should have no problem killing her off. Now that there could be two victors, she would be in danger for another entire day while trying to help Mulan at the same time. _She follows her heart too much_ , he thought, shaking his head.

* * *

Pocahontas prepared herself for what would be, without a doubt, an extremely awkward next few hours. She and Mulan had watched silently as the water was somehow drained out of the arena, sinking slowly as the sheet of ice they were perched on top of dropped along with the water's surface. Now they stood, both turned slightly away from each other, awaiting the first obstacle.

A minute passed, and nothing happened. Swallowing hard, Pocahontas turned toward Mulan. "Do you think—"

"False sense of security," Mulan answered quickly, cutting her off.

"Oh," Pocahontas answered quietly.

Mulan glanced over at her and sighed.

"Sorry," she said, smiling apologetically. "I'm just… anxious. There's only 18 more hours until we get out of here."

Pocahontas smiled when Mulan used the word 'until' instead of 'if'. She was also relieved that 1) Mulan didn't plan to kill her, and 2) that she believed they could make it out alive. Together.

She was about to express her gratitude when Mulan suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Oh. My. God. Look," she said quietly, as if this new threat would hear her. Pocahontas could barely detect a hint of fear in her voice, but it was certainly there.

She turned and followed Mulan's gaze. There, she was met with the sight of a huge dragon, circling around in the sky.

Pocahontas let out a strangled gasp. The dragon was enormous, covered in jet-black scales like armor, and spikes protruded out of its back and tail. They looked sharp enough to slice through steel. At the sound of her gasp, its bright, daunting green eyes turned in the direction of the two tributes. Pocahontas continued to stare incredulously, trying to wake herself up from the nightmare she was having, because while mermaids and magical ice powers were real, dragons were obviously not.

Obviously.

The dragon's eyes narrowed when it caught sight of Mulan and Pocahontas, and its nostrils flared. He—or she—then let out a tremendous blood-curdling roar that shook the foundations of the arena, and a spray of green fire erupted out of it's mouth, illuminating its sharp teeth.

The fire came within an inch of Pocahontas, singeing a few strands of her long, dark hair, which contrasted greatly with the other strands of stiff, ice blue hair, still frozen from Elsa's ice.

Mulan's turned into fear as the dragon swooped downwards, it's eyes boring into Mulan's, as if to say, "hey, you're next".

"They must keep those dragons captive..." Pocahontas murmured, a horrified expression on her face and, to Mulan's dismay, genuinely feeling sympathy for the very creature that was aiming to kill them both.

"Um, Pocahontas," Mulan laughed nervously as she eyed the incoming dragon. "Maybe this is not the best to-" She cursed loudly instead of finishing her sentence; the dragon was now just above the two of them.

Both of them dropped to the ground and rolled aside in opposite directions as the dragon opened its unattractively large mouth and shot out neon green flames that yet again barely missed the two girls.

"It must have had a terrible life, poor thing," Pocahontas had the nerve to say, and Mulan glared at her. She was about to give Pocahontas a piece of her mind when the dragon set foot on the ground in front of them, roaring in aggression upon his—or her—landing.

Pocahontas tentatively took a small step forwards, a movement that almost had Mulan screaming at her.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, voice full of urgency. "We need to get away from here; that ugly son of a dragon is going to kill us—"

She was cut off by another earthquake-worthy roar that shattered her eardrums to the point where she went deaf for a moment. The dragon then charged at Mulan, who stumbled backwards and desperately tried to outrun the dragon, though she knew it was a long shot. As she ran, she felt a burning hot flame scorch her body all the way down from her lower back to her ankles. Letting out a small breath of pain, Mulan took to running in a zigzag motion, stopping and starting, slowing and speeding, to try and foil the dragon's persistent attack. It didn't work.

As soon as Mulan stopped and changed the direction of her flight, the dragon, with it's quick reflexes, not only caught up with her immediately, but added injury to insult by sending bright green, scorching hot sparks raining down on her. It then proceeded to lift its arm up, and with a mighty swipe, left four bloody stripes across the back of Mulan's shoulders. The force of the blow knocked Mulan to the ground, where she rolled a few times before slowing to a stop.

Breathing raggedly and propping herself up with one elbow, Mulan glared back into the dragon's undaunted, fierce green eyes. It slammed its spike covered tail into her left leg, leaving Mulan bleeding and gasping for breath.

The dragon then rose and flapped its wings a few times, as if to shake off the dirty human blood that was ruining his majestic, bold look. It ascended into the air just above Mulan and flew a few looping circles around where she lay, breathing unevenly and watching its every move. The dragon stretched its mouth into what looked like its version of a toothy, pride-filled grin and did a few more victory laps around its fallen victim. Mulan just lay there, struggling for breath, as it circled around her, gloating in its victory.

"Mulan!" Pocahontas called, sprinting over to where she lay.

"Get away from here!" Mulan screamed back, waving her away furiously.

The dragon let out a snort of confusion as it turned its enormous, scaly head to look at Pocahontas.

"Go away!" Mulan screamed again, her tone taking a turn for despair when she realized that Pocahontas had no intention of doing so.

 _Roar!_ The dragon's attention was turned back on Mulan. It lifted its chin, and with a dramatic twist of the neck, sent a shower of ash and fire at Mulan's defenseless form.

"Mulan!" Pocahontas's voice echoed in Mulan's head as she coughed in vain to get the fumes out of her lungs. Another jet of searing hot fire shot out of the dragon's mouth, and all Mulan could do was feebly raise her right hand to try and stop the flames from reaching her, though it did nothing of the sort.

"Stop!" she pleaded weakly when the dragon prepared to send a third flourish of torture upon her, closing her eyes to ease the stinging in them.

"Stop it!" Pocahontas commanded, though Mulan was still cowering in a ball, not daring to open her eyes.

The dragon turned its head to growl a warning at Pocahontas before returning its attention to Mulan.

"Stop." Pocahontas ordered again, this time with a more controlled tone, similar to the one she used when she trained animals.

Mulan opened her eyes a crack to see Pocahontas advancing slowly towards the dragon, her hand outstretched. _Oh my god_ , she thought. _What is she doing?!_

The dragon landed on the ground with a thud. It had its eyes fixed on Pocahontas now and was tracking her every movement.

Pocahontas took another tentative step towards the dragon, ignoring Mulan's frantic hand gestures that were signalling for her to come back. She was getting closer to the dragon's mouth, but just then, her foot landed on a piece of ice with a crunch.

The dragon's eyes flashed dangerously, and it backed up, crouched with its ears flattened against its head.

A full minute passed, and no one moved. Then, with bated breath, Pocahontas began her slow advance again, desperately trying to stop her hand from trembling as she neared the beast for a second time.

Pocahontas stopped her advance a mere foot away from the dragon. She swallowed before bowing her head slightly, avoiding eye contact with the dragon, and then, ever so slowly, reaching up to touch its nose.

When her hand first made contact, the dragon flinched away from her touch. But after another tense moment, it let Pocahontas touch it again, and soon enough, it was comfortable enough with her that she could stroke its scaly nose without fear of losing her arm.

Well, without too much fear, anyway.

Mulan watched the entire exchange through squinted eyes (she still couldn't open them fully without them burning). With each stroke of the girl's hand, Mulan felt her respect for Pocahontas grow more and more.

* * *

When Pocahontas was confident that the dragon wasn't going to kill neither her nor Mulan, she slowly backed up until she stood beside her ally. Looking down with wary eyes, she took in Mulan's red, festering skin, some of it already beginning to peel off. It was a strange sight—both mesmerizing and revolting at the same time. It took everything in her not to gag at the combination of the sight of her ally and the pungent stench of burning hair.

"That was… amazing," Mulan managed to croak out, her voice cracking. "I'm—"

"Shhh," Pocahontas soothed, not wanting Mulan to put any more strain on her voice. She walked over to the lake. It was still frozen over with ice, but with a few stomps of her foot, she managed to break through to the surface of the water. Pocahontas bent down and cupped her hands to form a makeshift bowl. She dipped her hands into the water and then, bringing her hands up to her lips, gulped it down, sighing in relief as it soothed the burning feeling in her throat. After repeating this enough times that the taste of ash no longer lingered in her mouth, she refilled her hands and brought some water back over to Mulan, who drank from her hands gratefully.

When she stood up to refill, however, she noticed that the dragon had disappeared.

"No," she groaned. The absence of the dragon definitely meant another obstacle would be on its way, and with Mulan weak from pain and exhaustion, the odds were definitely _not_ in their favor.

Not for the first time since the Games had started, Pocahontas considered killing Mulan, but this time, it was with the intention that she could ease some of her pain. But she quickly dismissed the thought. She knew she couldn't do it. She could never live with herself, much less face the crowds of District 2, or anyone for that matter, if she killed Mulan now. If Pocahontas killed Mulan, it would be an act of selfishness and completely unforgivable. If Mulan died because of an obstacle, Pocahontas would be disliked, perhaps, but forgivable. But if they both made it out alive…

Pocahontas, now filled with new resolve, returned back to the hole she'd made in the ice, and after a few trips, had Mulan sitting upright again. When she'd completed her fifth trip, Mulan had regained her voice.

"How did you know that the dragon wasn't going to, you know, bite your head off when you touched it?" Mulan asked curiously. "Have you worked with dragons before?"

"I didn't know." Pocahontas smiled. "I just didn't want you getting turned into dinner."

Mulan glared at Pocahontas's rather pathetic attempt at humor. "You could've been killed! That stunt was extremely risky and—"

"Well I could see you were taking care of yourself really well," Pocahontas shot back. "Besides..."

She trailed off when she noticed the even more intense glare that Mulan was giving her. Putting her hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture, she stood, the phrase 'if looks could kill' running through her brain.

After a moment, both girls burst out laughing.

Pocahontas had never expected to get into an argument about this sort of thing in the Hunger Games, but she was actually happy that she had.

Perhaps some of her humanity would still be intact after all of this was over.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone! We have finally finished editing chapter 11, so here you go!**

 **P.S. Remember to tell us what you think of the story! Any and all feedback is appreciated.**

* * *

"Damn it!" Mr. Ratcliffe shouted.

Mr. Wiggins jumped at the sudden outburst. He was nervous, as he always was, when he had to deliver bad news to Mr. Ratcliffe when he was in a bad mood.

"That ugly brute was supposed to kill Mulan!" he cried, hurling a coffee cup at the wall. It shattered.

"B-but sir, I thought you said—"

"I know what I said!" Mr. Ratcliffe bellowed. "But I will NOT let the people control the way I run the Games! There will be only ONE victor! ONE!" he cried, shaking his pointer finger in the air. "And that victor WILL NOT be Mulan!"

"Uh, but sir? Why not Mulan? All the polls suggest that—"

"Shut up, would you! It's obvious isn't it?"

Wiggins blinked.

"She is too selfless," Mr. Ratcliffe sighed. "If Pocahontas dies, she will most certainly lead a rebellion against us! And that would spell trouble for the whole country, because as your beloved _polls_ suggest, people love her and will be willing to fight with her!"

"And Pocahontas won't?" Mr. Ratcliffe asked timidly.

Mr. Ratcliffe glared at his assistant as if he were some revolting bug that needed to be swatted. "No, it's much less likely."

"Oh," Mr. Wiggins squeaked, sweat running down his temple. He was dying for an excuse to get out Mr. Ratcliffe's office, but no excuse presented itself. He took a deep breath, then said very quickly, "Well, sir, the latest polls show that 83% of Panem believes that you're targeting one tribute too much." Mr. Wiggins shrank back, ready for the inevitable outburst.

"WELL HOW THE HELL ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO KILL THAT GOD-DAMNED GIRL?" Mr. Ratcliffe cried. "There's only two tributes left, for heaven's sake! How can we not target one?" Another innocent coffee mug was hurled at the wall.

Mr. Wiggins glanced around quickly for any other cups, then said, "Well, sir, if you don't mind me saying this…" Mr. Ratcliffe certainly _looked_ like he minded, but Wiggins continued anyway. "But like you said, Mulan is more selfless than Pocahontas, so… if you were to target Pocahontas with the next obstacle, then the people can't accuse you of targeting just one person. And, if Mulan really is as selfless as she seems…"

"…then she'll try to die in Pocahontas's place!" Mr. Ratcliffe finished. "Wiggins, that is the smartest thing you have said in a long time!"

"And I mean, a loooong time," he added as he made his way to the door. "Send someone to clean that up, will you?" He asked, gesturing to the shards of coffee cups that were scattered around the floor.

* * *

Pocahontas grabbed Mulan's hand and pulled her to her feet. She was expecting Mulan to be dead weight in her arms, but to her surprise, Mulan managed to stand on her own and released Pocahontas's hand.

"Hey, this is probably not the time, but, I uh," Mulan began, twisting her fingers together, "wanted to thank you for being my ally, and…saving my butt… multiple times…"

Pocahontas was distracted by Mulan's burned skin, fresh cuts, and blood-adorned figure. She blinked a few times, still staring, with a knot of guilt and anger in her stomach.

"…so… thanks for that," Mulan finished, wiping some crimson blood off her shoulder. Pocahontas stared at her now bloody hand, feeling a jolt of hatred shoot through her.

 _The Gamemakers. The Capitol. They did this… to a sweet, endearing, and impossibly brave sixteen-year-old girl._ Who had saved her life. Whose intentions were all so perfectly good and Pocahontas hated herself in that moment, hated herself with every ounce in her body, for becoming close to this stupid, reckless, altruistic girl who never once thought about preserving her own life rather than others'. Pocahontas hated herself for allowing Mulan to continually injure herself for her sake, and hated how Mulan—stupid, reckless, altruistic Mulan—never stopped to think about how Pocahontas might feel knowing that she could never be as good as her.

"Pocahontas?" Mulan's voice jolted Pocahontas from her thoughts.

Pocahontas cleared her throat. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, fine, totally fine—" she started, then stopped. She stared at Mulan, who was struggling to stay standing. She cast her eyes over the angry cuts and burns, the dried blood all over her, and then back to her eyes.

"I'm fine, really." Mulan said, and Pocahontas almost laughed at the absurdity of the statement.

"No," she stated, blinking her eyes once, then twice. She cleared her throat. "You're not."

Both of them cast their gaze to the ground before Pocahontas spoke up again.

"I just don't want you to die."

"Well," Mulan looked up, a small smirk on her face. "Thanks. I don't want you to die either." She paused, serious again. "But the dragon… it came for me. What if the next one—"

"Comes for me," Pocahontas finished, not even phrasing it as a question, because she was so sure of it, she so wanted to be sure of it. "Then it comes for me. And you—" stupid, reckless, altruistic girl "—will _NOT_ try and protect me."

* * *

Back in the Capitol Theatre, Mr. Wiggins nervously scooted a few inches away from his boss, steeling himself for the inevitable outburst.

Even with the loud chatter inside the room, Wiggins could swear that he heard a growl from the poor man.

"How can those two ruin things more than they already have?" he boomed, his voice ringing through the theater and causing every head to turn their way. Wiggins cringed, inching away.

"Oh no, you stay here, Wiggins," Mr. Ratcliffe snapped, grabbing his shirt sleeve. Wiggins let out a squeak of nervous laughter.

"Heh heh, well, sir, you really cannot be sure of anything yet," he chuckled. Mr. Ratcliffe was not amused.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT OUR CITIZENS'—"

"You finally said it, I knew it all along," Mr. Wiggins agreed, wilting under the subsequent glare he received.

"—THOUGHTS ON THE GAMES."

Wiggins let out a tiny 'oh' before laughing nervously again, shrinking away from Mr. Ratcliffe's gaze.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Please inform everyone that I have made an executive decision to target Mulan again," Mr. Ratcliffe said decisively, giving a crisp nod of his head to make it official.

"No!" Wiggins blurted out, desperation blooming over his already scrawny features. "You don't know if Mulan will actually listen to Pocahontas!"

Mr. Ratcliffe shook his head. "What can she do anyway? She's about a hair away from passing out. In case you haven't noticed, Wiggins, we don't have a whole lot of time left in the Games to kill her!"

"We...we could send her medicine!"

Mr. Ratcliffe scoffed. "So you, Wiggins, are suggesting we heal the very person we are trying to kill, just so she will be strong enough to save the person we want to be saved...and then die in her place, all so we don't look like we're targeting anybody?"

Wiggins gave a meek nod.

"That," Mr. Ratcliffe groaned, "is—" He paused as if something had occurred to him. "—perhaps not such a bad idea after all. But with a few revisions."

* * *

"How dumb do you think I am?" Mulan asked, breaking the silence. She swung her sword, which she'd recovered after the water had subsided, at a particularly thick patch of shrubbery to create a clear path.

"We are in the middle of the Hunger Games, and a new, life-threatening obstacle could appear at any time." She waved her hand around in the air to emphasize her point, then immediately regretted it as a new wave of pain washed over her arm. "And you decide that now—" she slashed viciously at another bush, "is a great time to take a bathroom break."

Mulan stopped, raising her eyebrows at Pocahontas, who refused to meet her gaze. "I'm not an idiot, you know," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "I know that the second you or I go off for some 'privacy'," she hooked two fingers in the air in quotation marks, "you'll take off, luring the obstacle out to you."

Pocahontas remained silent. Mulan took this as a cue to continue her rant.

"Well you know what?! I" Another slash. "DON'T." _Slash, Slash._ "GIVE." _Slash, slash._ "A." _Slash._ "CR—"

Pocahontas turned around in surprise when Mulan didn't finish, just in time to watch as Mulan's limp body pitched sideway onto the muddy ground.

* * *

"MULAN!" Pocahontas ran forward. She fell to her knees next to Mulan's body, placing her head on her lap and desperately shaking her shoulder.

Nothing.

"No! NO! Nonononononono…" she started gasping, fingers frantically searching for a pulse in her wrist.

Nothing.

Pocahontas let out a body-racking sob and slowly backed away from Mulan's lifeless body until collapsing against a tree.

"No," she kept repeating, unable to accept this new turn of events. Mulan couldn't be dead. There was no way this was happening. It was trick, it _had_ to be a trick! A trick devised by the Capitol to distract her from the next obstacle. But Mulan stayed where she was, lifeless and unmoving, and Pocahontas couldn't bring herself to look at her body any longer. She closed her eyes shut and started massaging her temples.

She waited for the anthem to play, waited for Mulan's lifeless body to be lifted out of the arena, waited for when she would be able to mourn over the death of her friend away from the prying eyes of the Capitol.

But deep down, in the selfish parts of her heart, Pocahontas also couldn't wait to go home. That small, selfish part of her was so relieved that this was finally over that she waited a full minute before realizing that nothing was happening.

Staggering forward rather tiredly, she once again knelt by Mulan, avoiding eye contact with her face, and then she noticed Mulan's fingers.

They were blue.

What Pocahontas had originally dismissed as hypothermia from the water was, in actuality, ice poisoning from Elsa's magic. She realized with a jolt that without the warmth from a fire to stop the ice from spreading, like Pocahontas had done after she had been hit, Mulan was susceptible to ice poisoning. Pocahontas gingerly lifted up Mulan's fingers and shook them in an attempt to regain their usual color. When that didn't work, she brought them up to her mouth and started blowing on them. And when _that_ didn't work, she placed Mulan's fingers delicately in her mouth and closed her mouth, gently.

 _Crack!_ The faint sound of Mulan's brittle fingers starting to snap off stunned Pocahontas. _Maybe,_ she thought, _if Mulan can't feel her fingers…_

Gasping as realization hit her, Pocahontas lay her head on Mulan's chest, where she heard the most wonderful sound in the whole world—the rapid, but present, beating of Mulan's heart. Pocahontas's body was once more racked with sobs, but this time, they were of relief. She had found a pulse, and there was still a chance, no matter how small, that there could be two victors this year.

Mulan, the stupidest, most reckless, and most altruistic girl Pocahontas had ever met was still alive.

Now Pocahontas was faced with a decision. She knew that leaving her ally unconscious could ensure that Mulan emerge victorious, as long as Pocahontas could draw the obstacle, whatever it was, away from her.

But then again, leaving a girl unconscious in the woods would _not_ be helpful if the next obstacle was a flood. And there was always a possibility that Mulan might wake up before Pocahontas had… left. And furthermore, Pocahontas knew that it would be just like the Gamemakers for them to switch targets, just to spite her. After all, one mad, broken tribute was much easier to control and manipulate than two fierce girls, bonded for life with enough hate for the government to fuel a rebellion.

And then, of course, there was one idea that had crept into Pocahontas's subconscious mind earlier, but now was the only thought consuming her brain.

There was only one, foolproof option that would ensure that the Games ended _now_. Yes, she could kill Mulan, but Pocahontas wouldn't even consider that anymore.

For the next few minutes, Pocahontas had only one word in mind. It consumed her thoughts.

Suicide.

* * *

"This makes matters much easier for us," Mr. Ratcliffe declared, laden with relief. "I had almost forgotten about the ice poisoning, but this is wonderful news; Mulan will not last another fifteen minutes like this! Then Pocahontas will be the winner, the citizens cannot accuse us of anything—after all, we _did_ give them a chance to both win, didn't we, Wiggins—and we will be perfectly in control again without being held accountable for Mulan's death!"

He twirled around his seat in relief, even swooping in and grabbing Wiggins in a bone-crushing hug for good measure.

"Now all we do is wait," he stated, mentally applauding himself on having done such a great job on running this year's Games, despite the mess that Pocahontas and soon-to-be-dead Mulan had caused.

"Sir," Wiggins squeaked from the inside of his boss's embrace. "I don't think it… will work that way—"

Wiggins was cut off by a sudden release that nearly sent him sprawling face first onto the ground.

"Yes, it will!" Mr. Ratcliffe's voice boomed at him as Wiggins struggled to regain his breath. "You, my friend, have _no_ idea _how_ much I have had to deal with this week. Sending out letters of assurance that we would have a fair Hunger Games, despite being complete BS, took a lot of work to make them sound sincere! And figuring out what to do with those polls… if it wasn't for me, my ingenious idea, and maybe about an ounce of help from you, we'd be about as dead as the seafowl in the Gulf of Mexico! And that, you useless idiot, is not even to mention the hordes of people from District 2 and 11 trying to send gifts into the arena every day! If I hadn't dealt with them—"

Wiggins squirmed as Mr. Ratcliffe continued his rant, a frightened look on his face.

Mr. Ratcliffe finished his tirade, and upon seeing that his words had left their desired effect on Wiggins, managed to calm down a little, satisfied for the moment.

"Do you understand now? So don't you try to tell me that it won't work; she'll be dead in ten minutes—"

"Sir!" Wiggins cried. "Just look!"

And Mr. Ratcliffe turned his head towards the screen, and to his horror, saw Pocahontas lift Mulan's sword up to her chin, preparing for what could only be suicide.

* * *

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Pocahontas concentrated on her breathing, the only thing she could control at the moment. Her heart beat erratically, her palms sweat, and her mouth went dry as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. As she lifted the sword to her chin, she did what she always did when she had to make a big decision—in this case a _very_ big decision—she weighed the pros and cons.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

 _Pro - Mulan will be alive._

 _Breathe in._

 _Con - I'll be dead._

Pocahontas let out a shaky breath after thinking about that. She almost wanted to laugh at the frankness in with which she talked about her own death. Almost—but she didn't.

 _Breathe in._

 _Pro - Mulan will get to see her family again._

 _Breath out._

 _Con - I'll be dead._

Pocahontas took a moment to study her friend. Her stupid, reckless, altruistic friend.

Mulan was in terrible shape. Burns covered her skin, and blood had dried and crusted in places, while in other places, it oozed out of the cuts and scrapes that covered her body.

 _If I'm not going to go through with this,_ she thought, biting her lip, _I better decide fast, because Mulan is going to bleed to death in a minute._

Shaking her head, Pocahontas turned her attention back to the debate that was still raging in her head.

 _Breathe in._

 _Pro - I'll be a hero, maybe even… a symbol of rebellion?_

 _Breathe out._

 _Con - I'll be dead._

Pocahontas thought about her home back in District 11, and was almost immediately overcome with emotion. She choked back her sobs and reminded herself that what—and who—she would leave behind would, without a doubt, benefit from a rebellion.

And Mulan was most certainly a better leader than Pocahontas.

Wasn't she?

Pocahontas shook her head, as if she could physically shake away all thoughts of her family from her mind, and tried to focus on breathing again. Her breaths at the moment were coming in short bursts, and she pressed a hand to her chest to press away some of the tension building up there.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Okay. Pocahontas took a few more deep breaths and started again with her debate.

 _Breathe in._

 _Pro—Mulan will get medical attention much sooner than if she'll have to wait another 10 hours or so._

 _Breathe out._

 _Con - ...need I even say it anymore?_

Now that her life was on the line—and quite literally in her own hands—Pocahontas couldn't comprehend how people were willing to give up their lives for a person, let alone a cause.

 _Ugh, off topic again!_ She reprimanded herself. One more glance at Mulan told her that she didn't have much more time.

She turned the sword over in her hands, considering it thoughtfully.

Then, she angled her body slightly away from Mulan and brought the sword up to her heart.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she could just picture her friends and family all yelling desperately at the screens for her to stop. She could even hear Mulan, with her quiet, yet somehow assertive voice, telling her to stop.

ooo

Mulan watched through half-lidded eyes as Pocahontas turned around to face her, and she once again commanded, "Stop!" She would've have done something else, but she was worried that if she tried pushing Pocahontas, she would fall onto the sword, thus skewering herself.

Pocahontas started, then placed the sword more firmly against her chest.

"Pocahontas, you can't—you shouldn't—I won't let you—" Mulan trailed off as her eyes rested on something else, just over Pocahontas's left shoulder.

Her eyes widened in fear as she clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the half-wail, half-gasp sound she made, and she resisted the urge to just lie down and let herself sleep.

* * *

Pocahontas watched in dread as a virtually fearless girl's eyes widened in alarm and fear. She turned around slowly, terrified as to what would make the unshakable Mulan, well, shaken.

* * *

The second Mulan saw those eyes bore into hers, she knew.

She was going to die tonight.


End file.
